


Help Not Wanted

by unreadable0



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, BAMF!Kurapika, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Prince Woble is awesome, Queen Oito is awesome, m/m - Freeform, major character death mentions, maybe some Kurapika/Leorio, they kind of skip the friends part
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 20:24:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12848838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unreadable0/pseuds/unreadable0
Summary: Slight AU. While Kurapika tries his best to seduce and eventually incapacitate Fourth Prince Tserriednich for both Prince Woble and his personal gains, Kuroro has his own plans. Or, Kurapika attempts to attract a monster and ends up getting the attention of another one instead.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Hunter x Hunter
> 
> And I'm back with yet another story that is also on Fanfiction.net! Sorry for the lack of editing and I hope you have a great day!

Kurapika felt uncomfortable.

He didn't show it, of course, keeping a dazzling smile on his lips at all times, but he knew the uneasiness was there in the darker parts of his mind. It was only normal anyways, something that set in every time that he had an important mission to carry out. His goal was simple enough; the orders were carefully worded but easy to follow. It was the execution part that was really getting to him. He sighed.

Scanning the crowd, he looked for any sign of his target. At the very edge, loitering at the outskirts of the crowd like a predator that had his sights on his prey, he saw him. Kurapika suppressed the trill of nausea when he found  _he_ was the recipient of such a perverted stare from the other man. Kurapika'd been watching him for a while now, gauging his target's interest, and now he was sure that it was time to make his move.

Flicking his gaze to the side, he gave a slight nod to Queen Oito, who gave him an almost imperceptible smile for luck. Sauntering towards him, the other man's smirk widened, and Kurapika mentally shuddered before running through his mess of a plan.

He was doing this for Queen Oito, for Prince Woble, and for his people. That vile man had the last pairs of the Scarlet Eyes, and he was loathe to let such an opportunity slip past his fingers. Fighting him was off the table as well, as his nen capabilities were still a mystery to him. There was only one route to take that could possibly work. Yes, he told himself, failure was  _not_ an option. And if he was to seduce Tserriednich, Fourth Prince of the Kakin Empire, to achieve his objective, then so be it.

He'd heard of the man's rather...  _interesting_ endeavors and tastes from the many rumors that circulated from some of his more insipid and gossipy bodyguards, and Kurapika knew that he was the best candidate to complete such an unappealing deception. It was going to be difficult, of course, to keep the sadistic man's attention on him for an extended period of time, but he would manage. He  _had_ to.

Weaving through the crowds with expert grace, he had almost reached his victim before another frame blocked his view.

"Excuse me sir," he murmured. Inwardly seething with annoyance, Kurapika kept a polite smile on his face before attempting to brush past the other person without looking away from the Fourth Prince. The person obstructing his path, however, was not having any of that. The man seized his wrist, pulling Kurapika back in front of him. Making sure that Tserriednich was occupied with something else, and therefore wouldn't notice the delay of his arrival, the blond met the stranger's eyes for the first time, accusations ready at his lips.

And then he froze, and Kurapika prayed that what he was seeing was just some sort of trick or illusion, and that  _surely,_ the leader of the Phantom Troupe  _wasn't_ standing right in front of him. Once he realized that he was  _not_ going mad, and the Spider Head was indeed just a couple inches away from him, Kurapika felt irritation of all things resurface.

" _What are you doing here?"_ he hissed lowly, eyes darting around to make sure that his target hadn't moved from his position.

"I should ask you the same thing," the monster said back, voice as serene as usual. Kurapika shook his head impatiently, surprised that none of the anger and sadness that he had expected to feel had welled up. The dark-haired man gave him an assessing once-over, and the blond hoped that he had merely imagined the man's eyes lingering on a certain place. "And what are you  _wearing_?"

Something akin to insane laughter bubbled up in his throat, and Kurapika slapped a hand over his mouth. Kuroro looked stunned, face going comically blank. What an impossible situation he found himself in! He was face to face with his worst enemy, and the only thing that had occurred to the other was the clothes he was wearing!

Glancing down at his attire, Kurapika understood the other's point of question. The suit he had donned on was just about crossing the line of scandalous. It was form fitting and specifically designed to display his slender yet muscular frame, and it drew every eye, male or female, to him. The cut was very expensive, of course, but the material of his undershirt was so thin that it clung to his body in ways that he deemed immodest. It was a bit over-the-top, if he was being completely honest, but he knew that he needed every ounce of sexual appeal he could get.

"It's none of your concern," Kurapika replied coldly, having contained himself from any other outbursts. "And if you are here to cause trouble, I suggest that you reevaluate your decisions. You are treading on a battlefield here."

"I know that," the dark-haired man said, but he looked like he wanted to say more.

"Then, if you will excuse me." The blond tried to shoulder past him.

"Wait!"

Kurapika turned back, exasperation clear on his features. "What is it? I don't have time for idle chatter."

"How is it that you are so composed? Last year, the very sight of me would have set you off," Kuroro stated, voice clearly baiting.

Shrugging, the blond removed the hand around his arm. "I made a promise. And I will not break it on a petty whim." Again, he made a move to walk towards his target.

"Who are you looking for?" Kuroro asked, as if they were having a casual conversation between friends.

Grinding his teeth, Kurapika turned back to look him square in the eye. "It's none of your business." Checking around for the prince, he panicked when he saw that he had gone.

"But what if I want to  _make_ it my business?" The dark-haired man stepped forward, and Kurapika forced himself not to retreat. He was about to respond with another scathing remark when he felt cold fingers close around his shoulder. He didn't even had to turn around to know who it was behind him, and his heart plummeted.

"Excuse me, but is this man bothering you?" a sickeningly sweet voice said into his ear, and Kurapika didn't have to fake the shiver of disgust that ran down his spine. Plastering a brilliant smile on his lips, Kurapika turned to come face-to-face with none of than the Fourth Prince Tserriednich. Lucilfer immediately stiffened, and his face flickered with minute confusion at the blond's sudden change of expression.

"Nothing I can't handle," he responded, voice kept low and flirtatious, pointedly not removing the hand placed heavily on his shoulder. "But thank you for your concern, your highness."

The man's face brightened at the honorific, and another hand found its way around his forearm. Kurapika couldn't suppress the flash of pure revulsion that the prince's touch caused him, and by the look of faint alarm in Lucilfer's face, the Spider had noticed as well.

"I was just about to pull you aside to speak with you myself," Tserriednich admitted, breath cold and distinctly  _wrong_ against the back of his neck. "Perhaps I could steal you away from your lovely chat to discuss some of those offers you were giving to my dear siblings." It obviously wasn't a question, but more of a demand. "Under any of your conditions, of course."

"It would be a pleasure," Kurapika agreed, and tried his best not to flinch as he felt a hand come to rest against the small of his back. The Phantom Troupe leader's expression stirred with something dark and strange that Kurapika couldn't identify before the Fourth Prince steered him away to a more deserted part of the banquet room.

Once they were completely alone, Tserriednich dropped his arms away from the blond —something that Kurapika was immensely grateful for— in favor of circling him, eyes assessing. Kurapika immediately brought up his guard, mentally preparing himself for whatever the man was going to do. That was the part that irked him the most; the Fourth Prince was just about as predictable as the vicious monsoons that used to ravage his home village. But, if Kurapika had played his cards correctly, the prince would simply be curious and not inclined to kill him, at least not yet.

"You know, you fascinate me," Tserriednich revealed, moving in closer to inspect the blond's face. "Somehow you've managed to string along my little brothers and sisters with your plans and empty promises; you've beaten this unbeatable succession war to standstill. You must be pleased with yourself, then." An odd little smile flitted across the prince's lips as he tilted his head.

"I do what I must," Kurapika responded carefully, tone still quiet and personable, something that derived what sounded like a satisfied purr to escape the prince's lips. "It all depends on how willing my competitors are to submit." Allowing the last word to curl suggestively in his mouth, Kurapika looked up at the other man.

"Having all those rotten princes eating out of your pretty little hand must be a an invigorating power play, hm?" He inched closer, grasping the blond's chin roughly. "But why work for that helpless Fourteenth Prince when you could serve me?"

Even as anger pooled in his stomach at the insult towards Queen Oito and Prince Woble, he felt a thrum of satisfaction as his plan came to fruition. Tserriednich had taken his bait. Now, it was time to reel him in.

"However tempting that sounds, I have already pledged myself to my employer. But, I will always be available if you wish to negotiate an agreement." He let the end of the sentence fall with an unspoken question, just subtle enough to prove intriguing.

Then he spun away, moving so quickly that Tserriednich barely had time to react before he was a good few meters away from him. "I'll be taking my leave... unless you require me for anything else." He counted down the seconds before the prince would call him back.  _5...4...3...2..._

A hand jerked him violently back, and Kurapika knew that he'd succeeded.

"Please, I insist that you keep me company for the rest of the evening, so that we may  _discuss_ the terms of that agreement you mentioned," Tserridnich said, voice dripping with false niceties. With a chill, Kurapika realized that he would much rather face down the Phantom Troupe leader once more than have to spend one more moment in the prince's presence.

But, it was his promise to his people, to Queen Oito, and to Prince Woble that made him go pliant under Tserridnich's orders. He let a shadow of a smile curve upwards on his face under the prince's arrogant gaze.

"As you wish." Tserridnich's appraising grin widened.

"I can tell that you're going to be an interesting one," he said slowly, as if savoring his next words. "I'm going to have fun with you."

And so, with his skin crawling at the other's contact, Kurapika let himself be led towards Tserriednich's table in the dining hall like a docile lamb to the slaughter.

* * *

Walking back quickly to Queen Oito's quarters, Kurapika tried to shake off the memory of Tserridnich's clammy fingers against the back of his neck, the feel of his wandering hands ghosting down his back. The man had never really  _tried_ anything; it was in his nature that he would wait until his victims were long dead before touching them, Kurapika supposed. Still, there was something revolting about being the subject to such an inhuman man's attentions.

At the end of the night, though, Kurapika comforted himself with the fact that he had accomplished his task. He'd spent the past few hours indulging the prince with his knowledge of fine arts and the classics, using it to charm the man and ensure further meetings with him. Tserriednich had not completely finalized his intentions of a peace towards Queen Oito and Prince Woble, he'd hinted that he would leave them alive for the next few days, on the condition that Kurapika meet with him the next day to help develop his nen further. He'd punctuated this statement with a kiss on the back of Kurapika's hand, something that had bile rising at the back of his throat.

It was an unfavorable thought, to have to endure the other's sickening nature for another day, but it was something that he was willing to go through if it meant that his employer would stay protected. Running a hand through his hair, Kurapika started to formulate a proper plan for the upcoming encounter. He hadn't expected that his operation really prove to be so effective, so any strategies he had thought up for anything after the initial confrontation were scarce and not fully-developed.

He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't register the the man in the corridor adjacent to him until said man had grasped his coat and tugged him into a darkened entryway.

"What the hell are you doing?" Kurapika whisper-shouted, yanking back his sleeve from the other's grip and glaring at him fiercely. Lucilfer stared right back, dark eyes empty of any emotion as usual.

"You're going to get yourself killed," Kuroro told him placidly.

"Do you really think that I don't know that?" the blond asked, voice back to its even cadence as he calmed himself down. He was about to turn away when two hands clamped down on his shoulders, holding him in place. Kurapika couldn't help but note that the man was oddly warm, and his touch wasn't unwelcome after Tserriednich's cold hands.

"Let me clarify; if you die, you'll mess up my plans," Kuroro said succinctly.

"If I don't carry out this plan, I'm going to die either way," Kurapika replied, tone devoid of any traces of fear or worry over the fact.

The Phantom Troupe huffed in irritation.

"You may not know fully how this works, but I'm doing what is in the best interests of my employer and myself, no matter how misguided my methods may be," Kurapika informed him levelly, "so I advise you to abandon whatever heist you're trying to carry out. You and your comrades should stay away from this battle while you still can."

"They're not with me."

Kurapika's eyes snapped back to the other man in shock. The Phantom Troupe leader was  _always_ accompanied with one or two of his members. Why was he not now, heading into an unknown and uncharted land, nonetheless? By the look in Lucilfer's eyes, however, he wasn't lying, at least as far as he could tell.

"What do you mean? You always have a few trailing after you," Kurapika accused.

"I've told them to go their separate ways until I contacted them further," Kuroro revealed, much to Kurapika's surprise.

"You're about to enter the Dark Continent, and you left your backup behind? That's quite illogical," the blond remarked.

"A few might have followed me, but that is against my explicit orders," Kuroro explained, something that the Kurta found very confusing. Why was Kuroro giving him all of this information? To the man that once swore to kill him, no less?

"Why are you telling me this?" Kurapika asked, still not moving away from Kuroro.

"Because I want you to trust me," the other responded honestly.

At his words, Kurapika immediately tensed. "What do you want?" he questioned, voice dangerously quiet.

A smile formed at Kuroro's lips. "Perceptive as ever. What I want is not much of consequence to you, but what I require from  _you_ is something you'll have to find out."

"Then have fun trying to gain my so-called 'trust'," Kurapika quipped, stepping out from under Lucilfer's hold. Slipping back into the hallway, he cast a hand behind him. "May our paths never cross again, Lucilfer."

The dark-haired man blinked. "Ah, but sometimes you don't get your way," he muttered to the empty hallway. And then he continued to stroll through the halls, mind still fixated on a certain blond's face.

_Until tomorrow, then._

**_To be Continued..._ **


	2. It's none of your concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika finds that spiders don't go away too easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Hunter x Hunter

"So how did it go?"

Kurapika jumped at the voice, nerves still on edge from the night's events. Closing the door silently behind him, he turned to face the bodyguard in front of him. "Jesus, Bill, you scared me."

The other man tossed him an unimpressed look. "So what happened? You're still alive, so I'm guessing that it went with some margin of success."

Sighing, the blond took off his suit jacket, folding it neatly and setting it down. Knowing that the other wasn't going to drop the subject, he reluctantly began to recount the unsavory situation he had been in. "It went well, as I expected. The Fourth Prince took my bait, and agreed to leave us alone for the time being as long as I continue to meet with him."

Paling, Bill clasped his hands together shakily. "Does he require anything from you personally?" Kurapika looked up sharply, catching on to his insinuation. Bill took that as confirmation, and looked a bit green as he continued. "Because if he does, I'm sure that Queen Oito would understand—"

"No. No, it's not like that," Kurapika interrupted quickly, "thanks goodness, it's not to that point yet."

"Yet?"

The blond pressed his lips together into an unhappy line. "He does not want it because of any affection or infatuation. It will be used as a display of power, and as long as I keep his interest significantly peaked, then we may never get to that step before he is disposed of."

"Well I hope that it's damn well soon that we can take the opportunity," Bill muttered. Kurapika nodded in agreement, picking at his sleeve absentmindedly. "Did you manage to catch sight of his nen-beast?"

"No," Kurapika sighed. "The creature is not restrained to remain with their host at any time, so it was probably attending to some other threat while I was present."

Bill let out a disappointed noise. "Do you think you'll be able to somehow come in contact with it?"

"It depends," Kurapika said, expression impassive.

"On what?" Bill had a sneaking suspicion about the answer, but he prayed that it that it wasn't correct.

"On how many encounters I can survive before he decides I look prettier hung up on his wall." Kurapika's voice sounded hollow and flat.

A heavy silence settled then, wherein Bill kept giving Kurapika perturbed glances.

"Anything happen when I was gone?" the Kurta asked, needing his mind to focus on something else,  _anything_ else besides his mission.

Bill shook his head. "No. It's been relatively quiet ever since the other princes got the information they wanted. Now, I suppose that they'll start rallying up their forces when they think that they have waited long enough for the others to get too comfortable."

"So how long are we looking?"

Shrugging helplessly, Bill exhaled heavily. "I don't know. A few days, maybe? A week, if we're extremely lucky."

"And we can't trust any of the others." It wan't a question.

"No. Nothing has changed."

"That won't do," Kurapika groused. "I need at least two weeks, and since you're the only other one that Prince Woble can rely safely on, we're either going to have to abandon this whole operation or I'm going to have to bring you with me while I meet with Tserriednich."

Visibly stiffening, Bill thought over the options. "Will the Fourth Prince tolerate that?"

"Probably not. He'll kill the both of them and then string up my corpse the first chance he gets," the blond told him without feeling, as if already partially-accepting of the fact. "He'll get bored of me a whole lot quicker without his precious privacy, and we would have just moved our charges into his territory as easy pickings."

"So we're stuck," Bill concluded, clearing his throat.

"Quite, unless magically another bodyguard that we can trust shows up," he replied sarcastically.

The other man gave a dry chuckle at that. "The chances of  _that_ happening..." he trailed off, not wanting to say it.

"... are close to zero, if that," Kurapika finished for him, shaking his head hopelessly. The two of them gave a synchronized sigh. It was something that they did very often, along with eye-rolling and exasperated huffs. It was a form of bonding between them, almost. It was like having a mix of Leorio's kind nature and Killua's occasional snark when the blond conversed with Bill, which was nice.

"It's yet another obstacle to deal with," Bill said, scratching the back of his neck. "But we've come this far..."

Smiling slightly, Kurapika patted his coworker on the arm. "You should get some sleep. It's my shift, anyways."

"No, I insist," Bill stressed, pushing the blond back into his chair. "You've had quite an ordeal tonight. If you are to function normally, you need the rest."

Kurapika opened his mouth to protest, even as his body screamed for the respite. He needed some recoup time to prepare for the coming day, but he was ready to stick another all-nighter if it meant ensuring Queen Oito and Prince Woble's safety.

"No excuses. We don't need any more fainting episodes, now do we?" Bill told him gently.

Eventually, the blond conceded, nodding wearily. "Just call me if you need any assistance."

"Just get some sleep, Kurapika," Bill said over his shoulder, already walking out of the room.

And so he did.

* * *

It's the following morning that Kurapika has to report to Queen Oito, and once he finished, she looked troubled.

"What is it, you highness?" Kurapika asked, crouching down in front of her. It was his job to ensure her and her child's well-being, and seeing her agitated like this... Kurapika frowned. She was an intelligent woman, so it was obvious that she had some insight on the matter, if her expression was anything to go by.

The queen sighed, clenching her hands tighter. "I don't like the sound of this, Kurapika."

"If it is what I must do to achieve a better standing for you and Prince Woble in the Succession War, than so be it. Either way, I have bought you some time," Kurapika insisted, surprised at how much he had grown to care for the woman and her child.

"I've known Tserriednich for quite a long time now," Oito told him, pursing her lips. "He is ruthless and unpredictable. I don't want anyone, especially one of my bodyguards, alone with him in his room."

"I'll be able to manage," the blond assured her, even as his words rang up empty in his mind. Even if he managed to escape, where would he go? He couldn't simply leave the last pairs of the Scarlet Eyes behind. "If not, then I've already prepared numerous counter-measures for you to use to get through the rest of the journey to the Dark Continent. I've already briefed Bill on the procedures, so as long as you two are careful, you should be able to survive."

"But it would make no difference in the long run," she stated, "because I will still be left with only one bodyguard against the other princes that command entire armies." Prince Woble began to cry at his mother's anxiety, and it was by instinct that Kurapika reached over to the infant to coo over her and calm her down. No one intervened, as it had been a common practice of his in the past week.

"I will succeed," Kurapika reassured her firmly, which looked about half as authoritative as it normally should have been with a giggling baby girl in his arms. "I've dealt with men like him before and made it out on top, and I swear that I shall do so again."

"We have one week," Bill informed them, stepping forward. "One week before this stalemate blows over."

"While I am gone, you can rely on Prince Zhang Lei's bodyguards as long as Bill is present," Kurapika told her. "I have worked out an agreement with him and his guards that as long as I continue to check in on his nen progress, he swears that his guards will not make any move against us."

"But how can we trust him?" Queen Oito questioned, voice steady but edged with worry. "How much is his word worth to us?"

"We cannot trust him," Kurapika admitted, "but we can only hope that he values his own improvement more than a petty chance at murder. By my profile of him, I am sure that you will be kept from harm for at least until my mission is over."

Queen Oito's brow furrowed. "If you are killed, then what will happen to our agreement to the other princes? You and Bill are the only ones standing in between their malicious intent and my daughter."

Kurapika glanced at Bill, the both of them at loss for words. They had been avoiding that outcome, choosing to gloss over it in hopes that Queen Oito wouldn't notice it before they came up with a solution.

Then, the door buzzed, and the whole room froze.

"Is that...?" Bill turned jerkily to look at the blond.

"I hope not," Kurapika cursed, getting up and walking to the door. "Our agreement wasn't until noon." Inwardly, he was scrambling for an answer that made sense and that wouldn't completely muck up his careful plans. "And it would be most undiplomatic if he came all this way into our territory just to pick me up."

Pressing the intercom button, the camera footage popped up and Kurapika gaped at who it was.  _No way..._

"Kurapika, always a pleasure," Kuroro Lucilfer greeted through the speaker, smiling in an almost smug fashion.

"One second," he snapped, voice with a perfunctory air to it. Swiveling around, Kurapika stalked back to the Queen's chambers with a stricken expression on his face. Once he entered, Bill stood up and ran to him.

"Who is it?" he asked urgently, not liking the other's shocked expression.

"Was it one of princes?" Oito asked, eyes widening in panic.

The blond snapped out of his daze. "No, no. I'm not exactly sure why this person is here, though."

"Is he dangerous?" the other bodyguard ventured.

"Yes, very," Kurapika answered, voice distant. "But I'm not sure what he requires from us."

Bill blinked. "Well don't just leave him at the door then! We have to go question him!"

"Right," Kurapika managed, and turned back to leave. Bill stared at him, confused. He had never seen the other man so unhinged before. He didn't appear scared or angry, though. It was more like intense surprise, as if he had seen the ghost of someone he had once known before. Part of him wanted to follow Kurapika, but he knew that he couldn't leave the queen unsupervised. He sighed and let himself stew in the mystery until the blond came back.

Taking a deep breath, Kurapika made sure that his voice was completely devoid of any of his previous surprise or irritation before he spoke into the intercom. "I advise that you leave immediately unless you have any urgent business you wish discuss peacefully with us, or if you are an envoy from one of the other Kakin princes."

"Are you not going to hear me out, then?" Kuroro's voice was tinged with mild amusement, and Kurapika contemplated just opening the door and pitching the inane man as far away as possible.

"Five seconds, or else I will have to forcibly remove you from the premises," Kurapika replied, words clipped and precise. "Five..."

"I'm here to help out with your under-staffing issue," the Spider leader said, taking his time to let the sentence slip out of his mouth. The blond's mind went to a screeching halt. He'd been expecting a fight or at least another lecture, but not an offer to work with him.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Kuroro insisted, "I want to lend the Fourteenth Prince my assistance for something in return."

Forcing himself to think rationally, Kurapika combed through all of his previous interactions with the other, trying to figure out what had provoked such an odd action. "This is what you needed from me, isn't it?"

"Yes. Now if you would just open the door and let me speak with your boss, then that would be very much appreciated," Kuroro said, completely at ease.

"I will not. I have not cleared you as threat yet. If you will excuse me for a moment." He didn't even wait for a response before spinning on his heel and returning to Bill and his charge.

"Well?" the other bodyguard prompted, fingers tapping against his knee impatiently.

"I'm going to need you to come with me," Kurapika instructed them. "The video feed only goes one way, so he won't be able to see any extra persons aside from their auras." He directed his last point to Queen Oito, who looked concerned.

"Are you sure that he's safe?" she asked, holding her daughter closer to her body protectively.

"If what he's offering is true, than he's one of the only people we can trust on this whole ship," Kurapika replied, still utterly stunned at the fact. "Now, I suggest that we don't leave him waiting. He's impatient and easily bored like that."

And so with Bill, Queen Oito, and a baby cradle in tow, Kurapika marched back up to the front door for the third time. Eyeing the intercom with trepidation, he forced himself to press it, and Kuroro's face popped back up on-screen, just as arrogant and infuriatingly symmetrical as always. Bill looked from the screen to Kurapika's face, and he quickly connected the dots that the two of them were  _not_ on good terms.

Rubbing his temples, Kurapika resumed his conversation with the Phantom Troupe leader, this time with Bill at his side. "If you will clearly explain your intentions once more for my colleague, it would greatly facilitate this exchange."

There was laughter on the other side, and Kurapika tossed an exasperated glance to his coworker. "You do understand that I could break into this very room if I wished to, right? There really is nothing preventing me from doing so."

Quick as a bullet, Kurapika shot back a cold response in a lowered voice, so to not startle his charges, "Take one step into this room uninvited and I will end you where you stand."

Bill was terrified at the amount of ice in the blond's voice, and  _he_ wasn't even the recipient of the threat. He understood that Kurapika was using his 'no-nonsense' voice, and that he truly meant to deliver what he was promising. And so he barely stifled the gasp of disbelief that came up when all he heard in response to the other's words was an innocent smile and a cutting remark.

"I doubt that. Your killing intent is nowhere near what it was before."

The blond's eye twitched visibly in annoyance. "That's because you haven't done anything to provoke me yet. After all, it was  _you_ who sought me out this time, so I have full right to react accordingly. Or did you forget what happened last time?"

 _What happened last time?_ Bill and Queen Oito both wondered. Kurapika never mentioned anything about his life before becoming a Kakin Royal Guard, so it was a point of great interest whenever a part of his past came up.

"Okay, okay, I understand. I'm extending my services as a bodyguard in exchange for a certain artifact upon the crowning of Prince Woble," the Spider Head proposed, tone friendly and agreeable. Kurapika had never wanted to punch someone so much at that very moment.

"How can we be sure that you'll keep your word and not turn on us?" Bill asked, speaking for the first time.

"Ask Kurapika," Kuroro suggested, a smirk playing on his lips.

Bill turned to the other man, whose fists were clenched.

Looking back at Oito, Kurapika fixed a calm smile on his face. "I'm going to let him in know so that I can place the needed security measures to ensure your safety. If you ever feel the slightest bit like your welfare is being threatened, notify me and I will remove him immediately." The woman nodded, setting down her child and sitting up in a proper manner fit for a queen.

Kurapika closed his eyes for a moment, thanking the heavens that he had brought so many pairs of colored contacts with him, and opened the door. Bill tensed, prepared to strike at any moment.

In came Kuroro Lucilfer, dressed impeccably in an expensive suit and with his hair laying across his head, completely free of the normal product he wore. The man did nothing, simply coming to stand in the middle in the room, eyes flicking this way and that calculatingly. It was as if everyone in the room gave a collected exhale in relief, as Queen Oito's posture relaxed a fraction, and Bill normalized his aura.

The brief moment of tranquility completely shattered, however, as the blond made his way to the dark-haired man, expression completely blank. Then, he brought out his chains, drawing out his pinky-finger, and spoke in a controlled voice.

"Two conditions: you will not make any plans or actions that will in any way negatively affect Queen Oito, Prince Woble, and your fellow bodyguards, excluding all others who were not hired by Queen Oito herself. Should Queen Oito refuse your offer, you will not harm us in any way, and furthermore leave peacefully and never bother us again." Kurapika readied his Judgment Chain, eyes scarlet behind his contacts. "After all, you understand what happens if you break your word."

To his credit, Kuroro didn't even flinch as the blade went in, only giving a low whistle. At once, Kurapika willed his eyes to return to their normal state, not wanting to waste anymore of his life with his powers.

"You know, I had almost forgotten the sensation of that. Thanks for the lovely reminder, sweetheart," he quipped. Bill almost fainted right then and there.

"Sweet... heart?" he asked, head whipping back and forth between the two of them.  _Impossible..._

The blond leveled the Spider Head with a steely glare. "Don't make me slip up and let my chains release a bit too early, Lucilfer," he warned.

"I'm sorry," Queen Oito piped up, looking confused. "Do you to know each other?"

"Unfortunately."

"Quite well, actually."

They both responded at the same time, sending each other shocked and offended looks afterwards. Sighing, Kurapika pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Apologies, your highness, for the confusion. This is Kuroro Lucilfer, and he is offering to serve as your bodyguard on his conditions," Kurapika introduced. "Once again, if you ever feel unsafe in his presence, let me know at once."

Queen Oito dipped her head, gesturing for Kuroro to begin his negotiations. Once the both of them were well into their discussion, Bill quickly dragged Kurapika over to one corner. Giving him a perplexed look, Kurapika opened his mouth to protest.

"Exactly  _what_ is the story between you two?" Bill hissed, beating him to it.

"It's complicated," Kurapika replied on instinct, "and not important."

"To hell that it isn't important!" the other exclaimed, voice still mercifully quiet. "This is the first time I've seen you so disturbed. If this man's presence affects your work..."

"He won't," Kurapika cut in firmly. "What's in the past should be left there."

"Just give me something to work with," Bill pleaded, and for a moment he looked so much like Leorio that Kurapika found the words spewing from his mouth way too easily.

"He massacred my friends and family. He's a murderer, and up until last year it was my wish to see him dead," Kurapika listed off, an indifferent aura about him, as if he what he had been describing didn't particularly bother him, which was clearly not the case.

Bill studied him closely, looking for any hint that might clue him in on the blond's true emotions. Finding none, he simply sighed. "Alright then. Just be careful."

The other nodded in acknowledgement, but never responded or agreed to his advice, which Bill noted with a small sense of vexation. Then the two of them returned to their charge, who had finished talking and was staring at Kuroro with hesitation in her eyes.

Bowing slightly, Kurapika smoothly intervened. "I do think that we will have to continue hashing out the small details tomorrow. I will have to leave to attend to other business soon, so Lucilfer, you must focus your full attention on doing your duty as Prince Woble's bodyguard. Do not act or say anything unless the Queen or Bill gives you explicit permission to."

"You're going to meet with the Fourth Prince, aren't you?" Kuroro conjectured, tone unreadable. Kurapika noted that the other's aura had retreated from its joking temperament, curling and shifting in a show of thinly-veiled unease. Or was it worry?

"Yes," Kurapika replied tersely, rising and excusing himself from the room. It was apparent that that he was not in the mood to speak about the matter.

Still, Kuroro got up also, sending a dampened form of his usual charming grin to Bill and Queen Oito before chasing after the blond.

Bill exchanged a bemused glance with Queen Oito.

"I guess we'll never figure out what's going on between them." The other woman nodded in agreement.

* * *

"Kurapika!"

The blond continued on with his pace, ignoring the person calling after him. A hand closed around his arm, pulling backwards with surprising gentleness. Kurapika's head whipped around, eyes glinting dangerously, and he freed himself with a decisive flick of his wrist. Kuroro let him, his hand falling to his side lifelessly.

"Why is it that you are so intent in getting in my way? And don't give me that bullshit about your  _plans,_ " Kurapika asked harshly, looking determinedly ahead of him, not meeting the other's gaze. He didn't have time for another argument. Couldn't the other see that his resolve was already crumbling? "What does it matter to you the measures I take to achieve my goals?"

"I-I don't know." Kuroro looked down at his hands, confident guise slipping.

Kurapika pressed on, words cutting and hurtful even as his tone remained level. "What do you even want from me? Haven't you taken enough?" The other man visibly flinched at his words, much to his surprise.

"I don't know!" Kuroro blurted, throwing his hands up in the air in a rare show of his lack of composure. Kurapika's hands shook with aggravation at the other's indecisiveness.

"How can you not know? Shouldn't you be off with your murderous friends instead of trying to fraternize with someone who tried to kill you?" he spat, all of his carefully-bottled emotions exploding at once. He watched as something in Kuroro broke, and the other man clenched his fists. The Kurts tensed. Whatever the Spider Head was going to do next, it wasn't going to be good.

"Not when a third of them are dead!" the Spider Head burst. Kurapika froze, face a clear display of his shock. "Not when a third of them are dead, Kurapika." His voice grew quieter, trailing off into something he couldn't quite identify.

Kurapika smothered the momentary flash of pity that he felt the man, immediately replacing it with anger. How dare he mourn the loss of his four comrades when he had massacred his friends and family without batting an eye! How dare he speak of such a thing as pain, completely disregarding the fact that Kuroro had caused pain a hundred-fold to him so carelessly! The nerve of the man to bring up such things to get him to feel sorry for such a monster!

But, there was something distinctly human about him now, something that Kurapika couldn't quite understand.

So Kurapika did what he did best. He stormed away, running from all the confusion and anguish that he felt. That was what he always did, right? He had ran away from his friends when they had needed him most, convincing his guilt-ridden heart that they were better off without him. He had ran away from the bodies, too, all those years ago. He had ran and ran until he had just about told himself that what he had seen wasn't real.

Foolishly, he hoped that it would be the same as all the other times. He'd be allowed to run away, to flee and escape it all. No such luck, however, and Kurapika had barely made it a handful of steps before two strong arms encircled his own and tugged him back, until he collided with someone's chest. Whirling around, Kurapika met Kuroro's eyes for the first time, and what he saw in the man's normally emotionless gaze made his anger falter.

It was sadness. Not anger, not disappointment, not regret. Just sadness. There was no effusive crying, only a single tear that made its way down his face. And his expression, it was something that Kurapika knew well. He had worn it himself when he had returned from the burned remains of the Kurta village, after he had buried his family and friends, after he had said his last goodbyes.

"Who was it?" Kurapika found himself asking, his voice lowered and completely empty of any of his previous ire. The other tightened his hold around the blond, and Kurapika did his best to force down the urge to struggle.

Kuroro shook his head despondently.

Something in Kurapika softened then, and what he did next still had him completely confused at his actions.

With one hand, Kurapika reached up slowly, slowly, until it rested against the other's cheek comfortingly, and he forced himself to forget who the other man was and what he had done. Kuroro leaned into his touch, and the blond wiped away his one solitary tear. So the blond let the other hold him, let him bury his face into the soft curve of his neck. It wasn't a gesture between two close friends or lovers; it wasn't even one between two kind acquaintances. It was something unique shared between the grieving, when one recognized another's suffering as their own and chose to help instead of damaging further.

And it was in that very moment, with Kuroro's arms warm around his waist and with his own hand cupped tenderly against the other's face, that Kurapika identified as the point where everything simultaneously became a thousand times more complicated.

"I'm sorry," he caught himself saying. Those words weren't for the Phantom Troupe leader, the both of them understood, but instead it went to everyone that Kurapika loved, everyone that he would surely leave behind once he was finished. And for a single frame in time, the blond felt at peace.

_"I'm sorry."_

**_To be Continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) WOAH. Sorry for the little blurp of OOCness at the very end, but you have to understand that those two were both very emotionally unstable and vulnerable at that point. Kurapika only comforted Kuroro because he was amending for all those times that he had abandoned his friends and family. Kuroro was just... well, you should be able to guess why based on the description.
> 
> 2) Leorio will show up at one point in this story, that I have planned for sure
> 
> 3) Tserriednich is one creepy dude, and we'll see his meeting with Kurapika later next chapter (hopefully), and at littlelily's request, there will be a little bit of a more romance-y theme with Tserriednich and Kurapika as we go along in the story, all one-sided of course, although no real feelings will be involved.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and please review!
> 
> follow me on tumblr @unreadable0


	3. And if you are here to cause trouble...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tserriednich is a creep.

"Come in."

Kurapika swallowed thickly, forcing himself to move and enter the room even as his mind screamed at the possible dangers. Then his thoughts shifted to Prince Woble, to his family and friends, and he found the strength to open the door and step inside. Immediately, he was confronted with what was easily the most terrifying creature he had ever seen.

Forcing himself to shut down all of the panicked centers of his brain, he began to formulate a report on the monster in front of him. Undoubtedly, it was Tserriednich's nen beast, as he could see the slight swirls of aura threading back to the man. The beast was mix of different bodyparts, all stitched together and assembled in a way that made Kurapika dizzy with the sheer  _wrongness_ of it all. It had a woman's face, a beautiful one, but all resemblance to a human stopped there, as a long, almost serpentine neck connected the face to a contorted body. The monster gave a light snarl before turning away.

He kept his gaze straight ahead, at the languid form of the Fourth Prince, only eyeing the creature through the corner of his eye so to be less conspicuous. By the smug look on Tserriednich's face, however, the other had already noticed his hesitation.

"You can see it, can't you?" he called out, stare traveling lazily downward in a perusal of the blond's frame in such a fashion that made Kurapika's skin crawl. "Isn't it magnificent? I assume that it is, anyway." Like a lion whose prey had ventured into his territory, the prince's eyes widened with pleasure as Kurapika tread closer.

"It is certainly formidable," he admitted, stopping short of the prince's throne, which was flanked by two burly bodyguards. Tserriednich quickly summoned a chair for him, a pretty thing made up of delicate swirls of gold that appeared as if it would break at the slightest touch. Reluctantly, the Kurta sat down, posture impeccable, a sharp contrast to the other's undignified position.

"Is it? Describe it to me," Tserriednich demanded.

"It is not something that can be properly described into words, your highness," Kurapika replied, carefully fanning the other man's arrogance. "You must see it for yourself to fully comprehend such a miraculous sight." The words tasted overly sugary in his mouth, but he let them out anyway.

"Oh really?" The prince rose from his seat, and his two guards stiffened. Waving them off, Tserriednich ordered them to leave.

The two men looked torn. Which was worse? Obeying their charge, but leaving him alone with a strange person, which might lead to their execution, or not following his orders and certainly being killed?

"Leave us," the prince commanded again, "or I'll rid this world of yet another pair of useless fools." His nen beast came closer, attracted to its host's new murderous intent.

The two bodyguards quickly made up their minds and all but fled from the room. Turning back to Kurapika, Tserriednich gave him a deceptively charming smile before beckoning him closer. Going completely against every rational thought of escape that had entered his mind, Kurapika allowed himself to be lured in closer, like a naive butterfly to a spider's web.

It wasn't until they were only a foot apart that he chose to speak, fully intending to take advantage of his physical appearance to distract the man. It was like setting a tantalizing bowl of sweets in front of an eager child, and Kurapika counted the seconds until the interested gleam in the other's eyes from the previous night resurfaced.

"You requested my presence under the pretense that you wished to discuss the betterment of your nen, but I assume that you have a different motive," Kurapika guessed, not letting the closeness of the other affect him.

"Mm." Tserriednich traced a finger down the column of the blond's slender neck, and Kurapika resisted the urge to surgically remove the digits sliding icy-cold across his skin. "Very clever, pet." The blond vomited in his mouth a little at the nickname. The prince didn't seem to notice the muted gagging noise from the other, as he was more focused with popping one of the buttons of his collar, uncovering more and more unblemished skin.

Kurapika's eyebrow ticked in annoyance, but he kept a serene smile at his lips and let the frigid hands make their way down to his collarbone before he stopped them and set them aside. "Is there anything else you need of me? If not, then I will have to leave..."

"Ah, yes," the other man exclaimed, as if just remembering what he had called him for. "Why don't you tell me about yourself?" Again, it was more of a demand than a question.

A quick flash of twisted amusement bubbled up in the blond's mind. He was truly being used as a source of entertainment for the other man! He was nothing but a pretty little artifact —a doll, really— for the prince to admire and play with. Just a pretty face with quite a brain attached, Kurapika thought distastefully.

"Quid pro quo," Kurapika quipped, seizing the opportunity.

"Something for something," the other man translated, a smirk starting to stretch across his features. "And why should I go about with your rules?"

"Why not?"

The man's hands twitched, as if itching to be wrapped around the blond's vulnerable neck. "I could easily kill you right here and draw the questions one by one from your dying lips."

He was delving into dangerous territory, that Kurapika knew, but he didn't let his nervousness show. "But that wouldn't be as fun," he pointed out, eyes wide with innocence. A dark grin tugged at Tserriednich's lips, and Kurapika counted it as a win.

"Always pulling just the right strings, my dear," he replied, each word tumbling out at a staccato beat that practically spelled out peril. "Come, sit." To his immense relief, the prince didn't mean to sit  _on_ him, but lead him to a spacious enough sofa a few feet away. Begrudgingly, Kurapika sat down, not liking the way that the other man's hand stayed possessively wrapped around his thigh.

"Am I to answer first, then?" he asked, lively tone still intact. It wouldn't do to have the prince bore of him now, not with how far he had come.

"Naturally."

Leaning forward with feigned interest, Kurapika let his autopilot take over in favor of scanning his surroundings properly. "What is it that you wish to know, then?"

Peering up at him form hooded eyes, Tserriednich played with a lock of the blond's golden hair, taking his time formulating a suitable inquiry. "I'll listen to anything, and then I'll decide whether or not the information is worth an answer from me."

Kurapika's eyes narrowed instantly, and Tserriednich followed the quick movement with delight. That was the trick, then, Kurapika thought, to reveal just enough while letting the other know nothing about him at all. Any personal details were most likely to carry the most value in the prince's eyes, as they could be turned against him should he want to unhinge him. He needed to give just a little bit of information to keep the prince interested, but not too much that it prove to be his downfall.

"I am a Professional Hunter of the 287th class, although I am not registered under the passed applicants," Kurapika began, eyes surveying his surroundings under the guise of giving the prince better access to his throat. "I am visible under no legal documents, and there are no records of my existence currently available."

He didn't even flinch when the prince's nails pierced his skin, simply staring straight ahead as if nothing had happened. He wouldn't back down unless he saw any change in the man's nen beast. If it remained docile and quiet, then he knew that the prince was not as irritated as he let on. "A citizen of Ryuseigai, then?"

"I'm counting that as your next question," Kurapika told him smoothly, and the prince's hands tightened in warning. "And no, I am not a citizen of Meteor City. I am from someplace far more dangerous and reclusive."

"Oh?"

The blond smiled in triumph. Placing a finger against the prince's lips, he extricated himself from the other's grip in one fluid motion. "It's my turn."

"Is that what you think?" Tserriednich smirked, like a viper about to strike. The blond didn't so much as blink. "Very well, proceed. But I may not answer."

"What will you do if you become king?" Kurapika asked, meeting the other's prideful stare.

An unhurried silence stretched then, but Kurapika didn't drop his gaze. Tserriednich was trying to bait him into giving more information, pretending that the facts that he had given didn't amount to the answer that he had to his question. But the blond wouldn't crumble or fall for such an act, not now. After a while, when it became clear that Kurapika wasn't going to give in, the Fourth Prince gave him an indulging smile and spoke.

"I will do what my father should have done: purge the world of all the useless trash that litters our empire." He tossed a glance to Kurapika, gauging his reaction. When he received none, he continued, "Although I do believe that I may want to keep you around. Whether or not I like you better dead or alive, however, is still in question." He grasped the blond's jaw and pulled him him closer, inspecting him. "But that, of course, depends..." Kurapika caught on to the unspoken notion.

_"...on whether or not you survive."_

A bitter smile formed at Kurapika's lips, then, a quick flash that the Fourth Prince almost missed. "Of course. That goes without saying," he replied calmly, voice oddly absent of any inflection. "After all, it's good to know we're on the same page."

Tserriednich's smirk widened.

* * *

This time, Bill was ready at the door to greet the blond, which still scared the crap out of Kurapika. He'd went to open the door, only to have it whipped open so quickly that he barely had time to jump back as the other bodyguard's face loomed in front of his.

"You've got to stop doing that," the blond hissed, stepping inside of the room.

"Sorry," Bill apologized, although he didn't sound very sorry. "But we've been waiting for you for thirty more minutes than you told us."

Checking his watch, Kurapika muttered a curse under his breath. "Did my shift already start?"

"Yeah, but Kuroro took it over for you," the other bodyguard informed him.

Kurapika nodded absently. "Good. Did anything happen while I was gone?"

"Not much. A few phone calls from some of the younger princes, but Kuroro handled them without much difficulty," Bill informed him, studying the other man carefully. "Are you okay? You look pale."

"I'm fantastic, actually," Kurapika retorted, "I just spent three hours locked up in the lion's den, so excuse me if I'm not in the best state of mind in the moment." Then he paused, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. "Sorry. I needed to get that out."

Awkwardly, Bill patted him on the shoulder. "It's the least I can do."

"Alright, then. Time to report to the Queen, then," Kurapika sighed, walking towards her private chambers.

"Did you get anything?" the other man asked, eyes hopeful.

"Naturally," he replied curtly, and he adopted a neutral expression as he went. Quietly, he knocked on the door before entering. Immediately after Queen Oito saw him, she stood up, face looking concerned.

"Ah, the man of the hour," Kuroro remarked, but Kurapika barely spared him a glance as he approached the Queen.

"I have good news, your highness," Kurapika stated, offering up a small smile.

"Oh, thank goodness," she breathed. "What is it?"

Taking out a piece of paper and a pen from inside his jacket, Kurapika drew out a rough diagram. "Throughout the meeting with the Fourth Prince, I was able to monitor the actions of his nen beast." Sketching out the creature, he jotted down a few notes. "It was calm enough, and it was obviously not controlled by Prince Tserriednich himself, but merely attracted by drastic changes in his emotions, mainly the varying levels of his bloodlust."

"His bloodlust?" Kuroro echoed, lips distractingly close to his ear.

"Yes," Kurapika confirmed. "And the Fourth Prince is not yet able to see the beast yet, although I suspect that his bodyguards have informed him about it previously. Speaking of guards, Tserriednich was very particular about his privacy during my time alone with him, so getting an opportunity to remove him will be easier than we thought. His God-complex only makes it all the less difficult."

"What do you mean 'remove' him?" Queen Oito asked, obviously not comfortable with the word choice.

"I can be very persuasive," Kurapika assured her, "and all of my targets give in one way or another, no violence needed." The queen nodded in acknowledgement, although she still looked hesitant.

"What did he ask of you during your meeting?" she pressed, looking anxious at what his answer might be. "Surely he did't just let you roam free to study his whereabouts and habits?"

"Nothing that I wasn't willing to give," he responded soothingly, finishing writing down all of the information onto a slip of paper.

"And that's what I'm afraid of," Kuroro interrupted, brushing the hair away from his neck before the blond could react and bat his hands away. Dark red nail marks were scattered around the pale expanse of skin, marring his creamy complexion. "What did he do, try to choke you?"

Combing his hair back quickly, the blond bit his lip. "He tried a lot of things. The bottom line is that I'm still alive, and that's what matters," he said dismissively.

Queen Oito and Bill exchanged worried glances, and Kuroro felt vaguely left out.

* * *

"How many more encounters with him are you going to have to endure?" Bill asked, eyeing the ugly marks blanketing the blond's throat. It was late evening by then, but Kurapika wasn't surprised at the question.

"Seven more, at least. I've spaced them out over the next two weeks," Kurapika told him nonchalantly. "That way it gives us time to plan and prepare as well as keeping him waiting."

"And he'll be fine with that?" Bill ventured nervously.

Kurapika raised his eyebrows. "Well, that's what we're going to find out."

* * *

"How can you be so reckless?"

Kurapika's head immediately snapped up, expecting to see Leorio coming through the door, but the voice was wrong. It was too smooth and serious to belong to the doctor. Quashing the little flutter of disappointment that he felt, he grudgingly gestured for the other man to enter.

"You look like you were expecting someone else," Kuroro noted, something a little too casual about his tone.

The blond didn't respond. He would remain civil to the other the best he could, and he was adamant that he forget whatever had transpired between them earlier. Taking his silence as confirmation, the dark-haired man stepped fully into the room.

"Was it that doctor friend of yours, perhaps?"

Taking a deep breath, Kurapika mustered up the energy to reply gracefully. "Can I help you with something?"

"No." The man took out something from his coat. Bandages and some sort of ointment. "But I brought this."

"Thanks," Kurapika said, scrutinizing the items as if to glimpse the strings attached to them. The Phantom Troupe leader didn't leave, as if waiting for something.  _Oh._ "Er, I can manage by myself," he told him, the words directed to the other stilted and foreign in his mouth.

Kuroro still didn't move. "No, I insist," he responded, inching closer with the posture of a tentative man approaching a wild animal. "Consider it repaying a favor, if you will." At once, the blond conjured up the memory, and he shook his head.

"I thought we both agreed to never mention the event ever again," he shot back, almost in accusation.

"If my memory serves me correctly, only  _you_ agreed to that," Kuroro said reasonably.

Sighing, Kurapika started to unbutton his shirt.

"God, that sick bastard went  _everywhere,_ " Kuroro murmured, taking in the darkened lines that reached down to his collarbones.

"Yes, he did. Thanks for so blatantly pointing it out, by the way," Kurapika sniped.

"You're not actually going to meet with him again, are you?"

"Unless he magically drops dead of unknown reasons," Kurapika countered sarcastically, "then yes."

"That can be arranged," Kuroro muttered, and he lead the younger man over towards the bed. The blond scoffed.

"You know what you're doing, right?" Kurapika asked, not liking the look of intense focus in the other's eyes.

"Most likely." Cool fingers found their way up his neck, rubbing gentle circular motions around the angry crescent bruises crawling up the column of his neck. Kurapika forced himself not to lean in too much to the soothing contact. When Kuroro was done, his fingers lingered a bit at the blond's faltering pulse. He blamed his tired mind for the fact that he didn't make any move to draw away from the taller man, because he  _definitely_ did not enjoy the sensation of Kuroro's hands on him.

Of course, it was in that compromising position that Bill caught them in. The poor bodyguard had walked without knocking, because surely Kurapika would just be writing out his plans, or maybe reading a book. Whatever he had been intending to say died at his lips, however, as he caught sight of the fact that the blond had company.

"A-am I interrupting something? he stammered, looking away modestly. The two of them sprang apart, heads whipping to his direction.

The blond rose elegantly, grabbing his shirt and keeping his face completely blank. "Of course not. Kuroro was simply assisting me with my wounds. What do you need?"

Bill tried not to openly stare at his colleague's chest, which was surprisingly muscled despite his slim frame. By the disgruntled look on Kuroro's face, his efforts had not gone unnoticed. "Um, I was just going to confirm that you were taking the night shift, but if you're busy..."

"No, I was just about to leave. I've skipped enough hours already," Kurapika assured him, before glancing back at Kuroro. "Bandages." The other man tossed the roll at him wordlessly. "Thanks. Bill, do you mind doing this shift with me? You can switch off with Kuroro if you need to."

"S-sure, no problem."

Smiling lightly, the blond clapped the other bodyguard on the shoulder. "Then let's go."

When the two of them had left, Kuroro looked down at his hands, still remembering the warmth of the blond against his skin. "Well, at least we're on a first-name basis now," he said to the empty room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Hunter x Hunter
> 
> 1) Be ready for some more er... suggestive stuff between Kurapika and Tserriednich in the upcoming chapters, but rest assured that nothing will happen. It's just that this story is a seduction plot, so... yeah, seducing will happen.
> 
> 2) I realized that I have not put much of a Kuroro POV in this story yet, but I'm working on it! There will be some of his thoughts in the upcoming updates!
> 
> 3) Does Tserriednich seem creepy and terrifying enough for you? Please let me know! I'm trying not to fully venture into Hannibal Lector territory, but if that's what you think would really make Tserriednich more intense, then by all means...
> 
> Thank you all for reading an please leave a comment!


	4. I suggest that you reevaluate your decisions...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some insight on Kurapika's past, plus a Bhavimaina cameo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm here with another chapter! I will be updating new material on fanfiction.net as well, so be sure to check it out (although there are a couple more chapters up on that site)! Special shoutouts to sugay, ninjaNinj, gotcrookedteethh, zanna, ZebraMittens, fatfetus, and all the guests who left kudos! Also thanks to Kaito Lynn, Haru, N, kaana, fatfetus, zanna, Rie, ninjaNinj, and sugay for leaving comments! Thank you all so much for your wonderful support!

_"Do you need something, mister?" Kurapika asked, his voice small but excited. He'd finally made it to the outside world! He was going to find Pairo a doctor, he swore it! Chasing down his enthusiastic thoughts, he focused back on the man that he had been stopped by. It was polite manners to focus one's whole attention on the person they were conversing with, just like his mother had always told him._

_"I just happened to recognize your clothing," the dark-haired youth asked. Kurapika guessed that he was around twenty or so, and he had a very soothing voice, if Kurapika was completely honest. He was followed by a small group of teenagers, his friends, Kurapika assumed, who were all oddly silent and watchful. They didn't smile or talk, like the man in front of him did, just eyeing him with mild interest and occasionally exchanging meaningful glances amongst each other."See, I'm very interested in a tribal group called the Kurta Clan. I'm a journalist, you see," he told him, rubbing the back of his neck with embarrassment. "It's been my dream to one day meet them. Do you happen to know about them?"_

_"Oh!" Kurapika exclaimed naively, happy to have met someone that knew about his people and didn't think them the vicious savages that the general populous regarded them as. "Yes! That's where I'm from, you see. I just gained entrance to the outside world, so that's why I'm not with them at the moment."_

_"Wow! And at such a young age... you must be very smart," the man praised, and Kurapika blushed at the compliments. "Do you mind pointing me into the right direction? I'd really appreciate it. I'll even tell your parents that you're doing well, how about that?" he said, winking conspiratorially._

_Kurapika was so intoxicated by the new cultures and things that he was seeing, and the man was just so nice. It wouldn't hurt to tell him, right? Plus, he wanted everyone to know how great his village was, and how everyone was welcome! "Okay!" he agreed, smiling cutely. "If you meet a boy my age named Pairo, tell him that I've almost gotten a doctor for him, okay? Tell him that he just need to hang on a bit longer!"_

_"I promise," Kuroro said solemnly._

_And so he told him, delighted to be of help._

_"Thanks for the help, kid," the kind stranger said, after the blond had finished. Kurapika was fascinated by the man's accent, the way that his vowels and consonants curled perfectly into pretty words. His own speech was passable, although he had a heavy pronunciation that marked him as a foreigner immediately. "I didn't quite catch your name, though."_

_"I'm Kurapika," he chirped. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr..."_

_The man smiled indulgently, eyes crinkling at the edges. "Kuroro, call me Kuroro."_

_"Mr. Kuroro," Kurapika tried, and he found that he liked the way that it rolled off of his tongue._

_"Yeah." The man nodded. "You seem like an intelligent one, Kurapika. I'll keep an ear out for you, alright?" The blond beamed._

_"Okay!" And then something shifted, and Kurapika realized with a jolt that he'd gone through this before._

_"No, stop!" he tried to shout, but his mouth didn't move, and he choked on his words. The younger version of himself kept smiling and talking animatedly to the man. "Why can't you see? He's a murderer! No!" he tried to scream. "Stop, please. Why can't you see? How could you not have known?"_

And then he was being pulled back, a shoulder shaking him gently.

"Kurapika," a voice called. "Kurapika, you have to wake up."

Eyes snapping open, Kurapika shot straight upwards, almost hitting Bill straight in the face. "Sorry, sorry," he managed, voice thick with the terrors that he'd just relived and tinged with a hint of the accent that he'd tried so hard to erase. "Do you need me for something?" He checked his watch. It wasn't time for his shift yet, so he wondered why he had been woken up in such a hurry.

"That accent..." Bill trailed off.

"Isn't important," Kurapika said firmly, voice returning back to it typical articulation. Doing a quick scan of the room, he noted with confusion that Lucilfer was in the room also, looking chillingly familiar to the younger image of him that Kurapika had just seen. An involuntary shudder passed through him then, and he clenched his jaw. It must've been the combined stress and lack of sleep that had cued up his nightly torment. He scowled. He had been so sure that he'd left those behind in his childhood. Perhaps it was the fact the very monster that played such a traumatizing role in those dreams was with him now, only a few scant meters away.

"O-okay," the other bodyguard managed. "But your aura levels were going way outside of your normal parameters, it was terrifying, really. Scared the shit out of most of the other bodyguards, by the way."

"Is that why you woke me?" Kurapika asked, feeling a headache forming behind his eyes.

"Considering the fact that I was nearly being suffocated by your nen presence, yes," Bill informed him.

"Crap," Kurapika hissed, knowing what that meant. "Don't worry about it."

"Nightmares, I'm guessing?" Kuroro observed quietly, and Kurapika cursed that perfect accent that he'd once been so admiring of. The blond didn't even have the strength to spare him a glance.

"If you're trying to get a rise out of me, I suggest that you try harder," he replied, voice cold and leaving no room for argument. Smoothing down his suit, which had become lightly creased during his rest, Kurapika stalked out of the room, going to check with the queen and his charge.

"Why don't you go and talk to him? You seem to care for him," Bill remarked, watching the blond go.

Kuroro shook his head, expression unreadable. "It doesn't matter. Not in this case, anyway."

"This case?"

Smiling sadly, the dark-haired man ran a hand down his jaw ruefully. "What comfort can I give when I'm the very cause?"

Bill was at loss for words, and Kuroro shrugged, sighing.

"I'm going to go get some rest. Call me when it's my turn to keep watch."

* * *

Rubbing his eyes, Kurapika groaned inwardly as he was faced with yet another problem. He was about three-quarters through with his shift, and he was  _not_ going to have any unnecessary skirmishes on his watch. Not when the queen was resting, and definitely not when Prince Woble had just been lulled to sleep.

His day had already been thrown off-kilter by the events of the previous few hours. It was still very much a mystery as to why Lucilfer tried to trick him into thinking that he cared. What was he to gain? It wasn't as if Kurapika even bought into his flimsy gestures, anyways. It was only his mission to restore his people's eyes that he had not openly tried to remove the man yet. Perhaps the Spider Head was attempting to gain his trust to form some sort of truce between them now that he had lost some of his comrades and therefore had had his forces weakened? But the things he did reflected something more than simple attempts at building a friendly camaraderie.

And Kurapika sure as hell was not going to further that line of thinking. It would only serve to distract him further from his goals and possibly lead him to even consider that such a possibility was possible. Even though he did not particularly enjoy the other's advances, he did not spurn them, for some odd reason. He sighed irritably. The whole situation was just proving to be extremely confusing and unnecessary. Refocusing his attention to the intruder, Kurapika realized with a twinge of annoyance that the other was not going to leave without confrontation.

"Is there something you need?" he asked, tone edged in warning. Bhavimaina shrugged, a relaxed smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

"I just have a question."

Immediately, alarm bells rang off in Kurapika's head. "Ask away," he granted him, even as his stance stiffened.

"Why have you been meeting with the Fourth Prince Tserriednich?" Kurapika opened his mouth, excuses and denial ready his lips, but the other bodyguard quickly cut him off. "I'm not looking for any long-winded dismissal from you. I'm only asking because it is my obligation to the First Prince Benjamin."

Something clicked into place in the blond's mind. Now this, he could work with. "And if I were not to answer?"

A flicker of amusement appeared in the other's eyes. "Then I would take your lack of response as a threat to the prince. I'm not stupid. If it doesn't directly involve the welfare of my charge, then I will drop the subject entirely. Needless drama should at all costs be avoided if it does not benefit my employer."

"I appreciate your line of thought," Kurapika told him, a slight smile curving upwards on his face.

"Thank you."

Folding his hands together, Kurapika continued weaving in bits of truth in between his lies, "Here are the facts, plain and simple: The Fourth Prince is interested in keeping a truce between my charge and himself as long as I monitor his nen progress over the next few weeks. There will be no long-term alliances; no exchanges that may drastically change the playing field. The Fourteenth Prince is being offered no protection outside of the fact that she will be spared from the Fourth Prince's direct assaults as long as he requires my services."

"But that still proves advantageous to both parties," Bhavimaina pointed out. "You see, Prince Tserriednich is quite an important figure in this war. Under your supervision, his abilities could improve ten-fold, which spells out tighter competition with my boss."

"Isn't that the whole point of a agreement? That both sides somehow benefit?" Kurapika asked, eyebrow lifted. "This deal that I was able to procure is open to any of the Kakin Royal Family. Prince Tserriednich only requested this because he was unsatisfied with the results that his own bodyguards provided him. Should Prince Benjamin be open to such an arrangement, I'd be more than glad to accommodate him.

"However, if you were to bring up such a proposal to him, it would implicate your own incompetence in the matter. Which I presume would not end very well for you, wouldn't it?" Kurapika assumed innocently, blinking up at the other bodyguard with a serene expression.

For a good few seconds, Bhavimaina's face spelled out only intense shock at the other's words, but then he let out a barking laugh, something that made the blond inwardly jump at the sudden sound. "You have me at an impasse, I see. But, what if I were to present your explanation to my charge differently?"

Kurapika tensed.

"Tweak the words a little, and it appears to be that Prince Woble has become quite a threat," Bhavimaina observed. "It is only my boss' apathy towards your employer that is keeping him from easily taking her out."

"Ah, but that is the delicacy of war, is it not? There is no such thing as apathy towards the enemy, no matter how small or defenseless they seem. If that were true, then you wouldn't even be here, now would you?" Kurapika said sweetly, aura expanding in warning. "And you should know that it is only because of my concern for my charge that you have not been disposed of." His aura expanded menacingly. The other contemplated exercising his right of defense, but thought against it. It would only prove inconvenient if he died at the blond's hands. Not when he still had so much reconnaissance work to do.

"Relax," Bhavimaina soothed. "I only wanted to see what you would do. I'm still trying to figure you out, you see."

Numerous cutting remarks bubbled up in his head, but Kurapika shook them away. He needed to figure out the other's observations, and build up any plans he needed to conceal the truth, or reinforce any illusions that the other believed. The other bodyguard's actions had been odd enough, so some insight would be greatly beneficial. "And what have you found?"

Bhavimaina's eyes caught something in the distance, and a strange smile flitted across his face, but Kurapika refused to look behind him. "You are the mastermind behind the Prince's current state of well being. Without you, it is obvious that they would not have made it through the first day. You are vastly intelligent, and you are aware of it. You use your deceivingly appealing good looks and amiable personality to your advantage, and are not above lying and deceit to achieve your goals."

The blond rolled his eyes, and Bahavimaina laughed. "Okay, I'll cut the crap." Then, to Kurapika's utmost surprise, he took the Kurta's hand, cradling it in his own in what could be perceived as a caring manner, but Kurapika could tell that there was something that he was missing. "You are a Manipulator or Conjurer, but most likely the latter." He ran a finger down his palm for emphasis, and Kurapika's mind reeled to figure out exactly what he was trying to pull. "You have the power to force confessions, although you are hiding a secondary ability that none of us know about. You're extremely watchful and cautious, as you should be, and right at this point you're probably trying to figure out where exactly I'm going with this."

Dumbfounded, Kurapika could only give him an accusatory glare before Bhavimaina bent down and brushed his lips against the back of his hand. Immediately, the blond wrenched his hand out of the other's hold as if burned, and resisted the urge to wipe the unwelcome contact off onto his jacket. The man's grin widened, and not a second later Kurapika felt a presence at his back, and he gave an aggravated sigh.

"I'm here for my shift," Kuroro announced, a bit too loudly, placing a hand protectively at Kurapika's shoulder. The Phantom Troupe glared at Bhavimaina in challenge, sizing him up. The First Prince's bodyguard simply smirked in response. Kuroro's aura intensified.

"This was your goal all along, wasn't it?" Kurapika accused. "Granted, it was very clever, but I don't see your point." Kuroro made a confused noise.

"I just wanted to see what he would do," Bhavimaina replied, before walking away. "And I got what I wanted, anyway. Nice to finally meet you, Kuroro Lucilfer."

Face-palming, Kurapika groaned. Great, now that further supported his theory about Kuroro's intentions. Once is chance, twice is coincidence, and three times is a pattern. Now he had yet another unignorable hypothesis to ponder during his late-night watches. And one that greatly befuddled him, at that. Not to mention the fact that he couldn't help but remember the ghost of the man's hands along his body whenever he was present.

"Are you okay?" Kuroro asked, and Kurapika batted off the hand on his shoulder, cursing himself for appreciating the added warmth.

"Just focus on your shift," Kurapika told him coldly, ( _Stop confusing me.)_  "and nothing else."

_I really need a coffee right about now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added Notes
> 
> IMPORTANT MESSAGE: 
> 
> I don't really like how this chapter turned out, and I really want to rewrite it (plus other parts of the story), but I can't because I'm trying to keep things consistent between fanfiction.net and AO3. I hope that you understand and I apologize for the OOCness and other problems. 
> 
> Here are some of my old notes: 
> 
> 1) You can interpret Bhavimaina's interactions with Kurapika any way that you want, but I see it as kind of a tactic he used to figure out what exactly what Kurapika's connection was with Kuroro.
> 
> 2) There wasn't any Tserriednich this chapter, but as Kurapika's plan continues, we'll be seeing a whole lot more of him
> 
> 3) Sorry if I butchered any of the Succession War stuff, but I hope you don't mind as long as it serves its purpose in the story
> 
> 4) This chapter was all filler, but the next one will be more of the plot
> 
> 5) Kurapika is constantly confused with Kuroro, and it doesn't help that he's constantly stressed out and sleep-deprived
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and please review!
> 
> unreadable0


	5. You are treading on a battlefield here...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fourth Prince makes a move on Kurapika that Kuroro is not ready for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holdiays! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your amazing support and comments! They really give me so much support. Also thanks to RimKaana for the amazing fanart on tumblr for this story! Seeing someone doing actual art for this old story is so touching!!! Make sure to check it out on tumblr @anarcadia! 
> 
> Acknowledgments aside, I will probably publish the next three chapters before mid January, as I want the stories on both fanfiction.net and AO3 to be synced when I post chapter nine! 
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope that you enjoy! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Hunter x Hunter

"You seem distracted today."

Kurapika quickly jerked himself out of his thoughts. "I do?" The Fourth Prince's grip tightened painfully around his waist, fingers pressing hard into his flesh. He was getting bored, Kurapika could tell, and he cursed himself for retreating into his mind for so long. Placing a hand on top of the other's, the blond gently eased the man's fingers off of him, bringing the hand up to kiss the large ring on Tserriednich's middle digit. It was a symbol of his status, bearing his family's coat of arms etched carefully into the jewel. "My apologies."

Immediately, he felt his face being tugged backwards, and Kurapika was suddenly face-to-face with the prince. He had been sitting on Tserriednich's lap, at his behest, and he had only gone along with it because it meant that he would not have to look him in the eye when he spoke. Now, however, even that luxury had been taken from him. Fitting on an exuberant smile, Kurapika met the other's gaze unflinchingly.

It was odd, the number of comparisons that Kurapika found himself making between Lucilfer and Tserriednich. They were both monsters in their own right, but at the same time they were vastly different. Kuroro had everything completely planned, always calculating this and that. Tserriednich was very much a spontaneous person, prone to fantastical mood changes and whims. The Spider Head was more flexible and accepting of things, and didn't dwell on things that were unpleasant; he didn't hold very many grudges. The Fourth Prince was very much narrow-minded and obstinate.

But then there were other things, too, that Kurapika noticed. Like how the prince's hands were cold and perfectly manicured, while Kuroro's were surprisingly warm and lightly calloused. Tserriednich's eyes held nothing but greed and apathy, and Kuroro's were likewise unfeeling, but occasionally held the glint of amusement or happiness in them. The biggest difference, however, was how Tserriednich's touch made him feel repulsed, while Lucilfer's was... more pleasant, he begrudgingly admitted.

"What are you thinking about?" the Fourth Prince asked, running a finger down his cheek.

"Nothing interesting, I'm afraid," Kurapika lied, feigning a weary sigh.

"Entertain me," Tserriednich pressed, icy fingers trailing downwards to rest at his collarbones.

Laughing softly, Kurapika let him, even as he stifled the urge to vomit. "I wouldn't want to be a bother."

Something like a growl emitted from the prince's throat, and the blond knew that denying him any longer would prove disastrous.

"If you insist," Kurapika conceded, "then I shall regal you with my spectacular exploits of doing paperwork. Did I ever tell you that I worked as an accountant at one point? No?" Now  _that_ was a bit of a stretch from the truth. He'd done booking before, for the Nostrades, but anything beyond that, anything legal, really, he had no real experience with.

Pretending to lean into the other's touch, Kurapika recounted various little tales and stories, each with varying levels of truth behind them. He tried his best not reveal anything about himself at all, while giving the prince enough information to keep him occupied. Whenever Tserriednich's interest would begin to wane, the blond would quickly distract him again with casual touches or outright flattery. It was a nauseating task, but it was one that he had to do nonetheless.

"Maybe you  _will_ be of some use when I have become king," Tserriednich rumbled, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I might keep you alive, after all."

"Careful," Kurapika cautioned, voice slipping into a lower tone, almost sultry. "Don't make up your mind until you've seen everything."

"Everything?" The prince's eyes lit up with enthusiasm.

"I've barely begun to build my case," Kurapika told him, pouting. Inwardly, he cheered as the fire in the other's eyes burned hotter. "It would be unwise to give your ruling so early in the game."

"Mm," Tserriednich hummed, one hand sliding up dangerously high on his thigh. "But I may cut the game short, so make your closing arguments quick, will you?"

Furrowing his brow, Kurapika tapped a finger underneath the other's chin playfully, tilting his heavy gaze upwards. "Ah, but don't end this until you've experienced all that I have to offer."

The Fourth Prince chuckled darkly, then, and Kurpaika counted it as a win.

It wasn't until about an hour later, when all conversation has lulled, that the prince caught his mind wandering once more. And if the sharp nails digging into his shoulder blades are any hint, Tserriednich is far from pleased about the fact. Still, Kurapika made himself go pliant in the other's prison of an embrace, knowing that his show of surrender will please the monster. With faint alarm, he noted that the prince's nen beast had stalked closer, demonic face leering at him like lion would its prey.

With a purr of satisfaction, Tserriednich repositioned the blond, smile predatory. Kurapika didn't let even the slightest hint of fear or trepidation pass across his face, and kept his nen regulated and calm. The prince's nen beast snorted and walked away, but Kurapika knew that the battle was far from over. It was like telling a petulant child that he had to share his favorite toy with his sibling, the way that Tserriednich's face had fell into something darker so quickly.

"Who were you thinking about so intensely, my dear?" he crooned, voice dripping with poison.

"Who?" Kurapika replied innocently. "What is it that you mean?"

Tserriednich's lips were suddenly too close to his ear, chilling breath causing a shiver of disgust to run down his spine. "There's someone else, isn't there? Who is it? Benjamin? Zhang Le? Whatever they're offering, I'll offer ten times more." A small part of Kurapika congratulated himself, but it was largely drowned out by the fact that he wouldn't get the chance to use his new advantage if he didn't even survive this ordeal first. He had made himself indispensable to the Fourth Prince, or at least made himself an asset that he deemed valuable to keep around.

Turning around in the prince's arms, Kurapika wrapped his legs around the other's waist leisurely, face bright and deceptively honest. "There is no one," he assured him, "but you. You are the only one that I think about." With every word, he inched closer, until his face was barely a few inches away from Tserriednich's.

The prince gave a triumphant smirk, one arm reaching lower to support the blond's new position. "Good. I'm not one to share my things." Then, before Kurapika could react, the prince leaned into the crook of the blond's neck, lips brushing against the pale, newly-healed skin before biting down. A gasp escaped the Kurta's lips, breath hitching, and he tried his best to play it off as one of pleasure, and not one of aversion. Apparently, his acting was convincing enough, as the prince laughed against his skin. Unfortunately, that also meant that Tserriednich continued his attentions, and Kurapika did his best not to clobber him unconscious with every wound.

When he was done, Tserriednich pulled away with a superior smile, eyes tracing up and down the marks that he had made on the blond's skin. Kurapika bit back the urge to hurl, simply looking up flirtatiously from beneath his lashes. Despite his revulsion that he had been caught in such a position, a fleeting feeling of success came over him.

He had survived his third dealing with the devil, and walked away only with the marks that proved his triumph.

* * *

"You're sure, then?" Queen Oito asked, clasping his hands with her own in an ecstatic manner.

Smiling comfortingly, Kurapika nodded. "Absolutely. I'll be able to get both you and your daughter out of this war alive by the end of next week." He felt a trill of pure, untainted happiness as Prince Woble giggled in her mother's arms, stuffing a chubby little hand into her mouth and smiling cutely. He then thought of Pairo, and the fact that his promise to his best friend was so close to being fulfilled. Yes, it would be worth it, no matter the cost.

The queen broke out into a rare grin then, and Kurapika noted how much younger she looked, how her face lit up in such a way that made the room a bit dimmer by comparison. He decided that he very much wanted her to smile more often; he wanted her and her child to survive and be safe, to live. It was in the past few days that he had fully realized his true loyalty to the two of them, realized how much he was ready to give up for them without so much as a second thought.

"Thank you," she exclaimed, holding her daughter closer to herself in her excitement, "thank you so much." Dipping his head modestly, Kurapika shrugged like it was no problem that he was potentially sending himself to his death for their freedom.

"You deserve it," Kurapika told her, looking at his hands.  _Unlike me._ "It's the least I can do, really."

Something must have tipped Queen Oito off, then. Perhaps it was the slight furrow of the blond's brow, or the almost imperceivable frown weighing at the corners of his lips. Or maybe it was the subtle finality that echoed his words, like the last few reedy breaths of wind before the beginning of a storm.

"You will be okay, right? You will not be harmed?" She squeezed his hands for emphasis, pursing her lips in worry.

"There is no need to worry about me," Kurapika assured her, bringing himself to look her in the eye. "I will be completely fine, I swear it."

The woman returned back to her jubilant countenance, then, and Kurapika swallowed down his pretty lie, the false words tasting disgustingly sweet in his throat. But then he glanced at the glowing mother in front of him, and all the bitterness in his mouth dissolved.

* * *

"What's that?"

"Hmm?" Kurapika turned away from watching over Prince Woble, a rare smile gracing his lips. At once, his face fell as he realized who was talking to him. He'd managed to avoid the other man for the past two days, too conflicted with his thoughts about the Phantom Troupe leader to care that his evasion of him was becoming obvious. After the conversation with Bhavimaina, things had gotten a bit strange between them in his opinion. He had too much on his plate already; he didn't need yet another problem to entertain. "What's  _what_?" he shot back irritably.

Stepping forward slowly, as if to determine whether or not the blond would run away again, Kuroro walked towards the younger man. Kurapika refused to retreat, fighting back the urge to return to his hide-and-seek game with the Spider Head.

"There's something under your collar," the dark-haired man mumbled, and Kurapika was suddenly aware of how close he was, the heat emanating from him in waves. Shoving down the thought, Kurapika felt a defiant look pass over his face as he raised a hand over the top of his shirt protectively.

"Why were you looking there?" he asked suspiciously. The other man blinked, as if not expecting the question. Kurapika took the opportunity to push the man slightly back, so that he was back in what was a more professional distance. Also because Kurapika couldn't think very clearly when he was that near.

"Concern? Worry? Take your pick," Kuroro replied, surprisingly earnest. With every word he came closer, until he was once again intruding Kurapika's personal space. Huffing, the blond stood his ground, glaring pointedly at the other man. He wasn't going to lose this battle; not this time.

"I don't buy it," Kurapika said back coldly.  _Where was this so-called 'concern' when you massacred my whole family?_ "Now, if you could please step back..."

Completely ignoring the blond, Kuroro reached up and tugged down the collar of the blond's dress shirt, displaying the bright red marks underneath, some starting to go blue and purple as they bruised. Looking up sharply, Kuroro gaped at Kurapika as the shorter man slapped his hand away.

"What the hell are those?" His voice was barely raised above a whisper, but Kurapika flinched as if he had shouted it.

Probing at one, Kurapika hissed in pain. "Use your brain, you damn idiot."  _Goodness, how many did Tserriednich manage to put on him?_

"I  _am._ Don't tell me that  _he_ gave you those." Kuroro scowled, and the blond mustered up the nerve to raise an eyebrow in challenge.

"It just shows that my plan is progressing," the Kurta informed him curtly, "and nothing else." The other man opened his mouth, and then closed it, a frown settling on his handsome face.

"Are you sure that those won't get infected?"

Rolling his eyes, Kurapika brushed off his comment with a dismissive wave of his hand. Never in a thousand years would he ever think that he would be having such a conversation with his supposed worst enemy. "I'm sure he has perfectly normal dental hygiene." At least, he hoped so. "I've already used the proper disinfectant to hurry along the healing process, so I will be perfectly fine."

Jamming his hands into his pockets, Kuroro came even closer, a deathly-calm kind of urgency seeping into his tone. "My offer of killing him is still on the table, you know." Kurapika allowed himself a step backward, cursing as his back bumped against the gilded edge of Prince Woble's cradle. How was he always getting himself in such compromising situations?

"I can handle myself," Kurapika fired back, defensive nature flaring up. "And you'll only make it worse for our charges if you interfere so rashly."

Kuroro made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. "Who says that the decision is rash?"

"This is a damn battlefield that you're planning to traipse so merrily across, if you've forgotten," Kurapika stated flatly, eyes jumping from place to place so to avoid Kuroro's gaze. Goodness knew what he would find if he looked. Unfortunately, such a tactic led the blond to make several observations about the other that he certainly hadn't needed to be aware of. Like the fact that the dark-haired man had a thin scar curving up the side of his neck, or the fact that he smelled lightly of pine and frost.

"I haven't."

Exhaling sharply, Kurapika pinned him with an intense stare, one that was readily returned. "Then you should understand that anything you do will surely do nothing but cause unrest and chaos."

"And your plan won't?" Kuroro asked, voice light. Still, Kurapika stiffened.

"No," he lied, "it won't, if I play my cards correctly."

Kuroro muttered something that, even with their close proximity, Kurapika didn't quite catch.

"Excuse me?" he tried, annoyance flaring.

Sighing, the Spider Head ducked his head, eyes fixing on the bite marks studding the blond's creamy skin. "I  _said,_ I don't like him harming you like this."

"Well, it doesn't matter what y—"

The other man cut him off, leaning forward purely on impulse. The blond froze at the quick movement, eyes widening as he felt a soft pair of lips press gently against the largest bruise on his neck. A jolt of warmth shot up his spine, sending a tendril of something both pleasing and confusing, and the blond almost missed the contact when the other abruptly jerked away. Abruptly because Kurapika had pummeled the other man in the face in his shock.  _What. The. Hell._

"What are you  _doing_?" he hissed, clutching his neck as his face heated up. Not even waiting for an answer, he fled down the hallway, trying to erase away the other man's touch on him, no matter how agreeable it had been.

Rubbing a hand against his face, Kuroro stood up from where he had been sprawled out on the floor, grinning. "Worth it," he said to himself, "that was definitely worth it."

**_ To be Continued... _ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added Notes
> 
> 1) Umm... so yeah, more seduction plot, I guess? Sorry if that was too creepy, but it kinda happened.
> 
> 2) Apologies for the OOCness, once again. If I could rewrite this story, I could.
> 
> 3) Also, Kurapika is so ready to give himself up that it's getting annoying in the manga. Sorry to have to bring this part of him into this story, too.
> 
> 4) Tserriednich is interested in Kurapika in... that way I guess. Originally I planned for it not to be the case, but I like this kind of seduction-y plot better. Do you? (Haha, it's so awkward that I used some Hannibal-Lector lines to inspire some of the interactions)
> 
> 5) Kurapika is starting to warm up to Kuroro's presence (maybe????)
> 
> Thank you for reading and please comment feedback!
> 
> unreadable0 :)


	6. Then, if you will excuse me...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misunderstandings occur, all because Bill is a decent man.

Kurapika was fuming, to say the least. Throughout his entire break, Bill kept tossing him concerned glances even as the blond made sure to keep his face completely blank. There was a plethora of things that he was angry about, but there were a few in particular that had him thinking the most vehement thoughts.

He was cursing himself for not fighting off the Spider's touch, for letting Kuroro lay his hands on him so easily. He hated the fact that he a small part of him actually took pleasure from it. He loathed the way that the man's attentions made his breath hitch, and the fact that he had only left him with a punch to the face. Most of all, Kurapika was furious that he had let the Phantom Troupe leader trap him so easily, that he had even thought to lower his guard when the other was present.

If there was anything he had learned the first time, it was not to trust the man. His one naive mistake had already cost him everything before. All it had taken was a few innocent directions to slip from his mouth, too easily given at Lucilfer's sickeningly-charming smile, to lead to his village's murders. Somehow, though, the ache of his lost ones had lessened in the past few years, and whenever he thought of 'family', the curve of Leorio's grin, the slight quirk of challenge in Killua's eyebrow, and the brilliant glimmer of determination of Gon floated up alongside his parents. With a pang of longing, he realized how much he missed them, how much he wished that he hadn't chained himself to such a disastrous life. He shuddered. He had just managed to distance himself from his new friends; he didn't want to have to lose them all over again.

Shaking himself, he could not help but brush a fingertip at the point where Kuroro's lips had met his neck, and was simultaneously upset and confused that the mere memory of the contact had sent a shiver down his spine. Kurapika scowled, outwardly now, and Bill tossed him a look.

"You okay, there?" Bill asked, tone tentative.

"Yeah, just a rough day," Kurapika replied, although his words had a perfunctory edge to them.

Giving him a reassuring smile, Bill held up his hands in mock-celebration. "At least you only have four more to go."

Brain immediately picking up on what he was talking about, Kurapika nodded distantly. "Unless I die next time."

"You won't."

Surprising himself, Kurapika let a light laugh escape him. "That's what I keep telling myself." Then, the brief moment of mirth ended, and the blond took on a more melancholic air. "But if I don't make it, then you know what to do." There was a complicated set of instructions that he had prepared in the event that he might die. He rewrote the plans every night, making sure that everything would run smoothly down to the last detail if he was out of commission.

Immediately, Bill sobered. "Anyone you want me to call?"

"No," Kurapika replied at once, on instinct. Then he thought for a moment. "Actually, yes."

Bill perked up, eager to know who his enigmatic cohort considered his family. Perhaps it was a childhood friend? A lover? Oblivious to the other's anticipation, Kurapika slowly took out a slip of paper, writing down a phone number in his usual elegant script. Handing it to the other bodyguard, the blond gave him a sad smile, one that Bill couldn't decipher.

"Tell him that I'm sorry," Kurapika added haltingly, as if not sure whether or not he should say any more. "And to take care of them." Composing himself, Kurapika pressed a calm expression on his face. "That is all, thank you."

"No problem," Bill replied, mind reeling at the implications of the blond's words.

Surely the 'him' was a man that Kurapika cherished greatly. Bill's eyes widened minutely. By the way that the word had curled affectionately from Kurapika's mouth, he guessed that it was his lover, then.  _Tell him I'm sorry,_ he'd said. That meant that the 'them' that his coworker had referred must be their children, then. Bill inwardly frowned. But then where did Lucilfer fit into the equation, then?

"Anything I can do to help," Bill added quickly, when he realized that the silence had stretched a tad too long.

Nodding, Kurapika cast a long look at the scrap of paper in the other's hand, only breaking his stare when the door opened suddenly and Kuroro walked in. At once, the blond's face hardened, guard rising back up once more, and Bill was sad to see it return. He had glimpsed just a little bit of the real Kurapika, the one that wasn't so cold and calculating, and all the little peek had done was further stir his curiosity.

"Am I interrupting something?" Kuroro asked, gaze flicking back and forth between the two of them.

Kurapika leveled the man with a chilling glare, and Bill was thoroughly surprised when he saw a faint smirk twitch at the dark-haired man's lips. "I was just leaving,  _Lucilfer._ "

"No need to be so hostile," Kuroro said defensively, putting his hands up in mock-surrender.

The blond's eyebrow ticked, lithe form broadcasting his irritation in large waves.  _What a bastard!_ Moving towards the door with a lethal expression, his mood only darkened further when the other man did not step aside to let him pass. Looking up at him, Kurapika noted with a flare of displeasure the unrepentant grin on Lucilfer's face, and his hand twitched. Whether it was to touch the other man or punch him, however, Kurapika did not know.

"There would be no need to be if you followed the proper code of conduct," Kurapika quipped, reaching up a hand to push the man aside smoothly. "Now, if you have nothing of importance to report to me, then I shall take my leave."

To his shock, Lucilfer caught his hand and pressed a gentle kiss to his hand. Ripping his hand away, Kurapika made no sign of acknowledgment as he shouldered past him. He pointedly ignored the warmth radiating from his hand, the phantom brush of the dark-haired man's lips still stuck in his mind.

Despite his emotions running high and his irritation even higher, when Kurapika managed to drift off to sleep, it was not the nightmares that had plagued him for the past couple days that welcomed him, but instead he dreamed of warm hands deftly running across his body, of soft lips pressing against his neck, and for once he felt complete.

* * *

"I wouldn't have done that, you know."

The dark-haired turned to face his coworker, still feeling a bit giddy at the feeling of Kurapika's fluttering pulse under his lips. Schooling his features, Kuroro raised a brow, prompting the other to continue. He had an inkling of what Bill was referring to, and a small part of him immediately jumped to a possessive conclusion. Perhaps the other man was also interested in the blond? It was not an unlikely assumption. Kurapika was stunning and beautiful and smart to the boot, and although that wasn't fully the reason why Kuroro had started to gravitate towards him, it was surely an enticing combination that anyone with half a brain would be attracted to.

Seeing the flash of something dangerous glint in the other's eyes, Bill was quick to assure him. "I'm saying this out of concern for him, and nothing else."

At once, Kuroro relaxed, the slight set of his jaw softening. "And what is it that you are trying to say?" His voice was quiet, but authoritative, like he was used to being a leader. Used to having his orders followed. Seconds ticked by, each one slower than the previous, and Bill tried to put his intent into the right words, as to avoid any negative repercussions as well as ensure that the other man fully comprehended his warning. They were both watching over the queen, as well as Prince Woble, and Bill wasn't sure how well Kurapika's restrictions would work on Kuroro if he angered significantly enough.

"He's already attached," Bill blurted out, when Kuroro's stare got too intense for him to keep his contemplative silence any longer.

Something in Kuroro froze. " _What?_ " How could that be possible?

"I didn't think it was possible, either," Bill replied, as if reading the Spider Head's thoughts. "Until I was given an emergency contact in case of his death."

"He's not going to die," Kuroro said firmly, as if it wasn't even a question. He wasn't going to die. He was going to survive, and Kuroro was going to have him. That was how it was going to be. If there was someone else, he would simply have to wait. Wait however long it took for the blond to miss his touch. Unless...

"It is simply a precaution," Bill stated calmly, realizing that he was treading into perilous territory. "And that isn't the point. The way that Kurapika spoke... it was the first time I had ever seen him so fond. He was almost, dare I say,  _devoted._ "

"And?" Kuroro asked, not ready to give up just yet. "It could've have been anyone. His family, perhaps?"

"No," Bill responded quickly. "It was obvious in the way that he talked about  _him_. A bit wistful, and a with a cut of regret."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Bill looked up at him, matching his stare with an uncharacteristically piercing one of his own. "Because I don't want him to get hurt, and I don't want his plan to run awry simply because of your actions." Then, he stood up and walked away, presumably to fetch Kurapika, as their shift was nearing to close. "And no, it could not have been his family, seeing that you killed them all."

A bolt of pain slammed into Kuroro at the other man's words, and his thoughts screeched to a halt as he came to a particularly frightening outcome. He had done that, hadn't he? All the disdain and fear that Kurapika had for Tserriednich... it was probably a tenth of the resentment that the blond felt for him. Kuroro Lucilfer, who had murdered his family and friends, who had almost taken everything away from him again all those months ago. With a frown, Kuroro made a goal. His second during his time on the voyage.

He would make it up to Kurapika; he would make him feel as whole as the Kurta made him. He would keep him and love him, let him know how much he was cherished every single day. Unless...

Unless Kurapika was already being loved and kept and cherished by someone else. A certain someone else... his brain quickly put together the pieces.

That  _damn_ doctor!

It all started to make more sense, Kuroro noted with a curl of frustration. He had picked up on the soft, mushy look in that doctor's eyes when he had first met the blond in Yorkshin. The way that the man had been able to calm the blond down almost immediately, and how Kurapika seemed to lean into him in return. It was disgusting, really, how perfect they were for each other.

Ah.  _Leorio_ was his name. Running the man's face through his mind, Kuroro did what he did best; plot and plan until what he wanted came to fruition.

* * *

It was a couple hours later, when Kuroro's shift had ended, that he woke up to the faint cries of an infant, closely accompanied by what he assumed was the mother's soft shushing. The voice didn't quite sound like Queen Oito, however, and Kuroro silently exited his room as he tried to place who the intruder might be. He knew that there were multiple maids that attended to the queen, also, but by stretching out his  _En_ , he surmised that there was only Kurapika and his two charges in the room.

Kuroro frowned. That didn't quite make sense. It was Kurapika's shift, so it was highly inconceivable that anyone had sneaked in under his watch. Unless the blond had fallen asleep, but even that was an absurd notion. Kurapika, if what Kuroro assumed was correct, could go weeks without resting and still function, and even then he was a very light sleeper.

Mind still trying figure out the situation, he rounded the corner and immediately stopped dead in his tracks. His breath caught in his throat.

There, standing serenely in a golden slant of lamplight, Kurapika was singing, words foreign but distinctly tender. The lullaby was soothing and very much affectionate in nature, verses flowing intricately past the other man's lips in a steady stream. There was a gentle look that graced his delicate features, and as the Kurta rocked the young prince in his arms, the baby giggled quietly in delight, small hands grabbing at his face. To Kuroro's surprise, instead of admonishing the child, like he expected him to do, Kurapika just laughed, a clear, sweet sound that made something in him shudder and go limp.

And so the Spider Head found himself watching the other man with fascination as he cooed over the infant and smoothed her little curls down. Children had never really seemed like an appealing option to Kuroro, not ever. They were high-maintenance and loud; horribly inconvenient for his lifestyle. But, in Kurapika's arms, Kuroro was more than ready to set aside such inconveniences, if only he would be able to see such a soft side of the Kurta again.

The fact came with no small amount of shock, of course. But, the longer that he observed the blond's interactions with the infant, the more insistent the tugging in his chest became, whatever it was. There a certain pull at his heart that he had never experienced before, something that felt very  _human._ Human was something that he had dropped aside year ago; it only got in the way when it came to accomplishing things, he had told himself.

But now... now, he felt the first stirrings of something entirely too soft and vulnerable for him to make sense of, much less appreciate. Frowning, he placed a hand over his chest. Perhaps it was some sort of condition?

If his subordinates were here, then they would have surely made fun of him for his overly-emotional thoughts.

Needless to say, things were getting more complicated by the second. At first, it had been a faint attraction, a passing fancy, when it came to Kurapika. After seeing him once more that night on the ship, however, with his suit clinging to his soft curves, it was a sharp drive of lust that had him following the blond. The more that he spoke with him, though, especially when the Kurta had comforted him a few days ago, the more an emotion more along the lines of foolish affection had crept unsolicited into his mind.

Now, his mind had come to calm standstill, enraptured with the scene in front of him.

"Is there something you need?" Kurapika asked, voice lowered so to not disrupt the child sleeping peacefully in his arms.

Kuroro pulled himself from his childish yet very confusing thoughts, and tried to keep his voice level and unaffected as he replied. "No. I heard a noise, and I came to investigate."

The blond gave a soft hum, setting the prince back into his cradle with a quick kiss to her forehead. "Well, seeing as there is nothing to investigate further, then you may go back to bed."

The Phantom Troupe leader bit back the reply of  _'Only if you join me,'_ as it would probably only result on bodily harm.

(edit this blurp out, then place somewhere else)

"I have a question," Kuroro asked instead, tone tentative.

The blond looked up, and Kuroro marveled once again how breathtaking he was. "What is it?" He sounded suspicious.

The dark-haired man walked closer, footsteps perfectly muted in the plush carpets. "You and the doctor. Do you love him?"

Kurapika furrowed his brow, looking confused at the question. "Yes. Why?" He loved Leorio like he loved all of his friends. Was it really so much of a point of wonder for the other?

Heart sinking, Kuroro pressed onward. "Curiosity." He let a flash of hurt pass over his face. "But I guess curiosity is for fools." He stopped his advance when he was just inches away from the blond, and he felt the younger man's breathing stutter slightly.

"What are you doing?" Kurapika inquired in an accusing tone, but he didn't move away. The other's close proximity was all too distracting. Plus, he blamed his mollified nature on the infant and her mother sleeping nearby. It wouldn't do to cause a scene that might wake them. Everything else in his head was wiped away as he felt a hand come up to rest at his neck. The blond tensed minutely, but allowed it as he heard the other man spoke.

"Do you love him?" Kuroro stressed, not answering the other's question.

"Of course," Kurapika repeated, voice edged with slight impatience, and he felt the Spider Head's hand tense.  _Oh. That's what he meant._  "I love him just as I do all of my family," he clarified, and a slight shiver ran down his back as he felt the other's warm exhale against his ear.  _Damn it. Time to leave._ Before he could extricate himself from the other's embrace, however, the dark-haired man pulled even him closer.

"Good," Kuroro said, although doubt still lingered in the back of his mind, and he pressed a kiss to the blond's temple, cheering when Kurapika froze minutely before leaning in slightly. Pulling away, he allowed himself one more look at the Kurta. "Good night, Kurapika," he breathed, before turning and walking away.

As soon as he was out of sight, Kurapika immediately jerked back to life, an angry flush at his cheeks.  _That bastard. Will he ever stop confusing me?_ Huffing, he returned his focus to his sleeping charges, ignoring the feeling of warmth that wouldn't quite go away, despite the briny chill of the room.

_**To be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) First of all, sorry for the weird blast of OOC from both ends. Second, I'd like to make clear that Kuroro is not sorry for the Kurta Massacre, nor does he care much about it. All he's concerned about is how it's affecting his chances of success at the current moment. I don't know, I feel like he'd be unrepentant on the topic, because he truly doesn't remember much of it.
> 
> 2) Next chapter things start to pick up, thank goodness! We'll see some of Tserriednich, as well as a bit of Muhan, next update.
> 
> 3) Don't worry, Kuroro will actually start to be helpful soon! He's kind of just there, because he only really cares about two things: the treasure, and whatever feelings he's working out with Kurapika. That's why he's kind of just been a bit of an annoyance so far.
> 
> 4) Ooh, so Leorio has come up again! He'll show up more in the later chapters, and will definitely have some objections to Kuroro's presence
> 
> 5) Kuroro is just super confused... poor guy. Well, hopefully he'll start to figure things out before the whole Tserriednich thing gets out of hand!
> 
> As always, thanks so much for reading and please comment your feedback!


	7. What is it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika encounters a certain annoying bodyguard, and Tserriednich reaches a whole other level of 'creep.'

"This was left at the door for you."

Kurapika looked up from his desk, an expression of confusion on his features. Mail was hard to come by and scarce, as the Succession War cut off most communications between those that were involved and those who were not. Perhaps that Zodiacs had pulled a few strings to contact him? Something inside of him lifted with hope. Perhaps it was from Leorio?

However, as he picked up the envelope, his fleeting happiness dissipated instantly. The stationary was fine and creme colored, a heavy line of gold coating the edges. Too expensive for the Hunter Association, then. His stomach clenched with horror when he saw his name written on the front in exuberant script, a hand that he knew all too well.

"What is it?" Bill asked, worry setting in as the blond inspected the letter with shaky fingers. Taking a deep breath, Kurapika replied in a steady voice, betraying none of his anxiety and trepidation.

"It's from the Fourth Prince." His tone was grave as he showed the other the envelope.

Bill's eyes widened, and his eyes immediately narrowed at the piece of paper, as if it would sprout legs and fight him. "Do you think it's a trap, then?" Kurapika turned the man's words over in his head, running through various scenarios and matching the up with the prince's profile.

"I highly doubt it," Kurapika started, voice hesitant, "but Tserriednich is as unpredictable as he is sadistic." Surely it wasn't his style to break his toys before he finished playing with them, though? Kurapika shuddered.  _Great, now I'm starting to refer to myself as an object. I'm spending way too much time around his psychopathic mindset._

"Are you going to open it?"

Nodding absently, Kurapika slowly tore open the pretty seal, casting aside the embossed paper with a sense of dull satisfaction. Inside the envelope sat three innocent items. The first, which Kurapika scoffed at, was an inordinately-sized ruby ring. The gem was so large that he was afraid that it would weigh his hand down, not to mention the exorbitant amount that the piece of jewelry had cost. The resources put into the gaudy ring alone could have sustained his whole clan for months, he thought irritably.

Placing the ring into his pocket for later investigation, he returned his attention to the remaining slips of paper. Fully aware of Bill's watchful gaze on him, Kurapika fished out the larger of the two, a thick piece of cardstock. A photograph, most likely. Flipping the paper over, his breath caught in his throat. Bolting upwards, Kurapika felt something fall past his fingers.  _Oh._ Picking up the second note, the blond numbly took off towards the queen's chambers.

"Wait! Hey!" Bill called out, quickly catching up to the other. "What is it?"

Kurapika shook his head, alarm clear in his eyes. Entering his charge's quarters, the Kurta felt himself say something, and thanked the heavens that his voice had come out evenly and absent of his inward panic.

"Prince Camilla has been assassinated," Kurapika told them, and Kuroro and Queen Oito looked up in shock.

Immediately, she leapt up, rushing over to him. "How do you know?" she asked suspiciously, although her words carried true concern.

Swallowing thickly, Kurapika shook his head. "Fourth Prince Tserriednich left a letter; a message to me of the consequences should I, or any of us, displease him." Reluctantly, he held out the photo, and with trembling fingers, the Queen accepted it. A gasp rose from her lips, and Kurapika was quick to steady her as she sank to her knees.

Retrieving the fallen image, Kuroro inspected it. The photograph was taken with clear artistic detail, obviously arranged to impress. The fallen prince had been taken and manipulated, twisted into such an image that the sight of it stirred something like mild horror in the Spider Head's stomach. Contrary to popular opinion, he did not particularly like displays of excessive gore, and the fact that it was apparent that the damned man had done such a show exclusively to unsettle Kurapika...

It did not sit well.

"Why would you show such an upsetting thing to the queen?" Bill asked, looking ill.

Guiding the distressed queen back to her bed with surprising gentleness, Kurapika turned back to face his cohort, a serious look on his face. "Because she can handle it. Yes, the circumstances are perturbing, but we must keep our calm if we want to get off of this damned boat alive."

"Y-you're right," Oito agreed, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm fine. It was just unnerving, is all."

"Did he send anything else?" Kuroro asked sharply, handing back the photo.

Quickly, Kurapika did a quick sweep of the other man, making sure that he wouldn't do anything rash. "Yes." He drew out the note that had came with the photograph, the one that he hadn't gotten the chance to read.

_See you at eight p.m. tonight. D_ _on't be late._

_Signed with anticipation,_

_Tserriednich Hui Guo Rou_

Kurapika felt nausea sweep over him, and the heavy red ink on the letter seemed a little too much like blood. Taking a steadying breath inwards, he felt a hand fall against his shoulder, and his head snapped up, eyes glowing bright red behind his contacts.

"What does it say?" Kuroro asked, voice urgent but surprisingly gentle.

Pressing the note into the other's hands, Kurapika stepped back from the other's warmth reluctantly, composure seamless as ever. "Nothing completely unusual. He's just reaffirming the meeting later today."

"But it's later then your originally agreed time," Bill pointed out, peering over Kuroro's shoulder at the message.

The blond pursed his lips. "That's what disturbs me. He's exercising his control over me. He's trying to test my boundaries."

"And if you do not go?" Queen Oito asked.

"Then our plan is moot," Kurapika finished, crossing his arms. "This actually works in our favor, believe it or not. The more he believes that he has full control over me, the easier it will be to deceive him."

The queen looked down at her hands, expression sad. "And he killed the Second Prince to prove this point of "control" over you?"

Knowing where her thoughts were going, Kurapika swiftly assured her. "No. He would have killed her regardless of my involvement with him. She was probably his target from the start. No, he simply took use of the situation and bent it to his advantage, utilizing her death to upset all of us as well as increase his standing in the Succession War. It was an intimidation tactic, and nothing more." At first, only silence met his explanation.

"How are you so calm?" Queen Oito's words were barely audible. "How are you able to spend so much time with this monster of a man and still be sane?"

A wan smile appeared on his face then, and Kurapika dipped his head modestly. "I am because I must be. There is only one monster on this boat that I cannot face, your highness, and the Fourth Prince is not it."

And with that, the blond spun on his heel and walked away, leaving Kuroro to ponder over his words.

The longer that he thought, the more something in Kuroro tightened painfully, and the Phantom Troupe leader found that he did not like the feeling at all.

_That is all that I am to him, isn't it?_

* * *

"Where did you get that ring?"

Turning the obnoxious thing over in his hands, Kurapika contemplated just pitching it out into the sea. "The Fourth Prince sent it. If it's all the same to you, I'm anxious to see how quickly this will sink."

A faint noise of amusement escaped from the queen, and Kurapika wasn't sure who was more surprised at the sound, Queen Oito or himself. Letting out a light laugh, the woman held out her hand, and the blond placed the piece of jewelry into her palm. "If this is what I think it is, then you've actually managed to capture his attention."

Glancing at the ring, Kurapika frowned. There was nothing strange about it. Just a large, emerald-cut ruby, surrounded by a blinding row of diamonds. But... now that he had time to scrutinize it, he could make out a small  _'K'_ engraved into the side of the golden band.

"Is this some sort of seal ring, then?" Kurapika guessed.

"Mm. Not really," Queen Oito replied, lifting the thing and holding it up to a nearby lamp. "It's a symbol of status, yes, but it is also usually reserved for the princes' esteemed guests."

"Esteemed guests?"

"Think of it as a guest key. You now have unrestricted access to the prince's quarters, so long as the prince allows it." A frown fitted itself at the woman's lips. "I don't understand why he would give one to you, though."

A dark thought flashed through Kurapika's mind, and he shuddered as he entertained it. "He's probably expecting for me to use this to see him during later hours, then. He must have been interested in what I was offering earlier..." The look of clear revulsion on his face clued her in, and the queen paled.

"You don't think...?"

Nodding, Kurapika felt a wave of dread crash onto him. "I'll do my best to sate him without resorting to those...  _unsavory_ means."

"Just be careful," she warned him, real worry in her voice.

"No promises," he joked, even as he knew that it was the truth.

* * *

Slipping the large ring on his finger, Kurapika stared at the jewel glinting up at him with distaste. The unfamiliar weight clunked awkwardly at his side, and the cold metal made him itch to tear it off. Approaching the prince's door, the blond raised his hand to knock politely, only to have the door viciously yanked open the moment that his knuckles brushed the wood.

As soon as he saw who it was, Kurapika's indifferent stare sharpened into a cold glare.  _That damn idiot._

"Step aside please, Muhan," he ordered calmly, "I am here to see the Fourth Prince."

The other man scoffed. "Uh-uh, blondie. You can't order me around here. This is  _my_ domain, which means I hold the power here. You have no authority over me; doesn't matter whether or not you have a so-called 'meeting' with the prince." Then, he leaned back, a pleased grin at his lips.

A dark smile flitted across Kurapika's face, so swiftly that Muhan was sure that he'd imagined it. Trying to reassure himself, the burly guard dismissed the unsettling expression as a trick of the light. That was all that it had been, right?

"Why, such big words for a man of such little intelligence," Kurapika drawled. "You forget your place, sir. You are not in control here." Casting a quick glance into the dimmed space behind the man, he smirked. "That right is reserved for your boss, whom I have business with. So, I will repeat myself once more; step aside, please."

Muhan's aura spiked threateningly, but the Kurta brushed aside the display with one of his own.

"Do take caution in your next actions," the blond warned, voice eerily unaffected even as his nen crashed against the other in a huge wave. It wasn't the worst he could have done, Kurapika supposed, but it was enough to make the other flinch.  _I win._

With one final sneer, Muhan moved aside, making sure to shove Kurapika roughly into the room. Resisting the urge to hash it out with the other bodyguard, Kurapika settled for one last pointed glare before brushing past him and venturing into the space. The decor hadn't changed since his last visit, and Kurapika speculated with growing unease as to where Tserriednich had stowed away the body of the Second Prince.

The prince himself, as expected, was lounging in the main room, sitting atop his ornate throne and surrounded by numerous priceless artifacts. Kurapika's eye twitched at the thought of all the lost and wasted culture lying around and rotting in the space.

At the sight of the pretty blond, Tserriednich's smile widened, and his nen-beast, who had taken to sticking closely to its host whenever Kurapika was around, came forward curiously. Much like a predator would inspect its prey, Kurapika mused.

"I was wondering when you would show up, dearest," the prince practically purred, and the twitch in Kurapika's eye intensified.

"Is that what you are, then?" Muhan crowed, and the Kurta grimaced as he realized that the man had followed him in. "You're just his common little whore, aren't you? That's why he gave you that ring, isn't it? Just so he can bend you over and f—" Kurapika cut him him off with a slap to his face.

It wasn't an action done out of anger or embarrassment, however, but more of a way to quickly shut him up. If Tserriednich had taken offence to his comments... although his dislike for Muhan was great, he didn't necessarily want to see the man mutilated in front of his very own eyes. Kurapika breathed a tremendous sigh of relief when the prince only lifted an eyebrow, a small frown playing at his lips.

Apparently the other bodyguard had taken his continued silence as him ignoring his remarks, and Muhan stepped closer into his personal space, leering gaze coming full-force into Kurapika's line of sight. Keeping his eyes straight ahead of him, Kurapika paid him no attention, which only agitated Muhan further. Grasping his shoulder harshly, Muhan jerked the blond's body to face him, effectively earning the Fourth Prince's attention, if the annoyed look in his eyes was any indication.

_Uh-oh._

In a flash, Tserriednich's nen-beast appeared at Muhan's shoulder, petrifying face peering over creepily. At once, the oafish bodyguard released the blond, and Kurapika stepped away from him warily. He wasn't sure exactly what the monster would do, now that it had its sights on Muhan.

"What is it that you called him, Muhan?" Tserriednich called out from his seated position, tone flat. "A whore, you said? A 'common little whore', if I remember correctly." Tserriednich's voice rose dangerously. "Is that what you think of me? Some weak-minded fool who entertains prostitutes?" Muhan shook his head vigorously, and Kurapika felt a small amount of pity for the man.

Kurapika swiftly approached the enraged prince, trying his best to distract him while sparing at least a shred of his dignity. Placing a placating hand on Tserriednich's shoulder, Kurapika made sure to ostensibly show off his ring to the man. The Fourth Prince's eye's caught sight of the token at once, and his wrath subsided a bit.

Taking the blond's hand, Tserriednich stared intensely at the way the blood-red stone stood in sharp contrast with the creamy color of Kurapika's skin. The Kurta restrained himself form cringing away from the other's grip, forcing himself to wear his regular mask of indifference. For a moment, his memory returned to the warm sensation of Kuroro's lips at the back of his hand, and Kurapika briefly noted that the Spider's hands had never felt so cold as the prince's. Then, he inwardly smacked himself for such thoughts.  _Focus._

"Count yourself lucky that you have such a high position in my private army, Muhan," Tserriednich hissed, hands tightening possessively around Kurapika's wrist. "Or you'd be slaughtered where you stand. Disposed of like the common scum you are." His eyes flicked lazily from Kurapika's tranquil face back to Muhan's frightened one. "Do you understand?"

Muhan nodded dumbly, and Kurapika prayed to whomever was watching over him at that very moment that the lumbering idiot just left without any parting remarks. Luckily, the bodyguard did, and the Fourth Prince's face brightened with new interest as his hands found their way over the Kurta's lithe form. Immediately, Kurapika was immediately faced with the fact that he had just locked himself into the lion's den, having just shooed away his only chance of escaping. Muhan would have stopped Tserriednich from completely mauling him at least, for propriety's sake.

"What an annoyance," Tserriednich said dismissively, "is he not?"

The blond hummed in response, trying not to flinch as the other's hand ran down the length of his back. "He is what you say, your highness."

"Mm.  _'Your highness'..._ how very formal," the prince purred, yanking the younger man and causing him to fall into his lap in a rather undignified position. "I like it." His sickeningly-charming voice was close to his ear now, and Kurapika felt his stomach turn as he realized two very important things. One: he was trapped and virtually alone with a madman in circumstances that panned out to be scandalous at best and lethal at the worst. Two: the amount of incense in the room and the numerous perfumes and colognes applied liberally to the prince could not fully mask the pungent smell of blood that hung in the air. If anything, it only accentuated the scent, and Kurapika felt quite dizzy with the weight of it.

Nonetheless, Kurapika forced himself to turn around in the other's lap and face the monstrous man with fully. Tugging at the prince's robes, he fixed a teasing smile onto his lips. "Is that so,  _you highness?_ " Kurapika forced himself to reply, lathering the flirtatious undertones of his words thickly.

A low growl emitted from somewhere in Tserriednich's throat, then, and Kurapika barely had time to react before the other's mouth crashed onto his. At first, all he could do was freeze up, brain not fully computing what was happening.  _Enemy. Danger. STOP._ All he could taste was blood, and Kurapika didn't want to know whose it was. The overpowering smell of the prince's cologne choked him, and it was all he could do to not whip out his chains.

At some point in his panic, Kurapika realized he should be doing something in return besides sitting there like a wooden board. Forcing himself to regain control of the situation, he let his main focus float away from the revolting situation his body was in. Part of him was responding the Fourth Prince's unwelcome attentions, kissing back and putting on a seamless act of pleasure, but another part of him, the part that mattered, was busy making plans.

So, when Tserriednich finally pulled back, Kurapika leaned forward, faking a look of breathlessness on his features and pretending to chase the other's lips. The prince laughed, an arrogant smirk on his face, and met the blond once more.

_Got him._

And so Kurapika smiled, a secretive thing that was easily hidden as their lips met again and again. One was reveling in the pretense of power that he held over the other, and the other was silently proceeding with their plan, a twinge of triumph coloring his eyes.

_Proceed to phase two, then._

**_To be Continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy (almost) New Year! I will have the next chapter up in a couple days, so then I'll be able to upload new material to BOTH fanfiction.net and AO3. I hope everyone has a great New Year's, and I'll see you in 2018!
> 
> unreadable0 :)
> 
> P.S. follow me on tumblr for more hxh content @unreadable0


	8. I don't have time for idle chatter...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain clown gets pulled into the mess as the plan takes a turn. Also, Kuroro realizes that he's completely and utterly screwed over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Hunter x Hunter
> 
> This is the last chapter to post before I can start with the new content! I will be putting up chapter 9 shortly, so stay tuned!

"Why did you kill the Second Prince?"

Such an obvious question. But, Kurapika wanted to hear it from the prince's own lips, and decided to throw any semblance of subtlety out the window. If his calculations were correct, then the prince would be more likely to respond to blunt questioning.

All he got in response was a faint hum of acknowledgement, and Kurapika attributed the prince's mellowed state to the fact that the man was currently running his hands languidly down the blond's back. While Kurapika was glad that he had such an advantageous effect on the murderer, he couldn't help but wish to be in literally  _any_ other situation than his current one. Feeling another frozen finger tracing patterns underneath his shirt, Kurapika tried his best not to think about the fact that the prince was probably thinking about the most flattering way to flay him alive.

Shuddering inwardly, Kurapika turned around in the other's death-like grip and looped his arms around Tserriednich's neck. Placing a coy smile at his lips, he peered up at the Fourth Prince expectantly from under his lashes. Immediately, the prince's eyes flickered up to his, eyes alight with a sort of twisted amusement.

"Why not? She was far too ugly," Tserriednich said, words leaving his lips in a lilting manner that made Kurapika's skin crawl. "Far too ugly when she was breathing, that is."

Stomach clenching, Kurapika forced himself to remain calm. This was familiar territory, he reassured himself. He could do this. There were a few ways to go about wheedling more information, he knew. There was the obvious one, and that was appealing to the man's overblown god-complex, as well using his physical influence to get the information he wanted, although that was a more dangerous and unfavorable option. Then there was a more subtle option: using a front of fear to encourage the other's sadistic mindset to continue.

After all, while a strong and untouchable facade was alluring, it was the sense of vulnerability that Tserriednich was most attracted to; getting the most fearless of people to submit to him.

Pretending to shift uncomfortably in the other's hold as if to escape, Kurapika set his trap into motion. As predicted, Tserriednich's hands moved to grip his hips roughly, jerking him back into his original position. A sickeningly-sweet voice echoed along the soft arch of his neck, and for a fleeting moment, Kurapika was afraid. But then he remembered the fear that his people must have felt when they had fallen at the hands of his unwitting betrayal, and Kurapika's panic stilled.

"What's wrong, my dear?" the other crooned, one hand moving up to cup his cheek in a mockery of a loving gesture. "What is it that makes you so distressed?" Manicured nails dug into his neck. "Is it the fact that I murdered my own darling sister with my own two hands? The fact that I plan to do so with everyone of my  _precious_ siblings? Or maybe is it the fact that I may plan the same for  _you_?"

Kurapika let his breathing hitch, let his pulse quicken and flutter. A dark chuckle erupted from the prince.

"Are you terrified, pet?" Tserriednich asked, feigning innocence. "Are you not horrified of me?" The hand tightened threateningly at his throat when he didn't reply. "Are you not petrified by the atrocities I will commit? Are you stricken with terror that I might pick off your petty little charges?"

Playing the role of a wilting damsel perfectly, Kurapika struggled for breath shakily, swallowing thickly.

"I do not fear the inevitable," he said solemnly. "Be it that you kill them tomorrow or thirty years in the future, it is not of consequence to me."

"Oh?" Tserriednich sounded interested, and Kurapika drew him in with triumph.

"The queen has little liking of me, a sentiment that is reciprocated. She believes that I only wish to improve my standing by meeting with you."

"And are you?"

Glancing down at the ruby ring glinting on his finger, Kurapika replied, "I am doing what everyone is trying to do on this heaven-forsaken boat."

"What? Live?" the Fourth Prince sneered.

"No," Kurapika shot back. "That was never an option." Flinching inwardly, Kurapika realized that it was the truth. Tserriednich smiled, a slow, sharp thing that cut at Kurapika's mind.

"You might be useful after all."

_Got him._

* * *

_A couple days later..._

By the time that the second prince fell dead over the course of three days, Kurapika knew that it was time to start the preparations for the next stage of his plan. Things had been going relatively well with Tserriednich, which pretty much meant that the prince hadn't decided to kill him just yet. The monstrous man was all too happy to pick off his siblings instead.

The Fourth Prince seemed to be targeting the middle princes first, not going to for the youngest, but not quite attacking his biggest competition just yet. It was an intimidation tactic, Kurapika understood. A lot of the middle princes were never in contention to get a grip on the throne, but their deaths would surely make the younger princes uncomfortable, which might drive them away all by itself.

And so, after making sure that Queen Oito was in a stable frame of mind, Kurapika excused himself. Heading to his private quarters, he made sure to retreat to the farthest corner so that he wouldn't be overheard. He retrieved his phone, which he was cleared to have on his person solely because of his position on the Zodiacs. Staring at the glaring screen with distaste, he tried not to look at the numerous texts and missed calls he had from Leorio.

Sighing out of a mixture of grudging fondness and exasperation, he shot the poor doctor a quick text, admonishing in tone.

_I'm working, Leorio. I cannot pick up the phone nor contact you unless it's an absolute emergency._

Almost immediately, the doctor's contact popped up on his device. Declining the incoming call with a twinge of regret, Kurapika clicked out of the conversation before his phone could blow up any more. He had taken out his device for one purpose, and one purpose only.

Hesitating for moment, Kurapika made himself dial the number, no matter how much his fingers seemed to be unwilling to comply. The call only went two rings before it was picked up, and Kurapika almost wished that the call had never been accepted. Gritting his teeth, he brought the speaker to his ear.

"Why hello, my dear Kurta," a voice crooned from the phone. Kurapika didn't even bat an eye at the seductive tone. He had heard much worse over the past weeks, anyways.

"Hisoka," he acknowledged, albeit reulctantly. A laugh issued from the other end.

"And why is it that you are calling?" the clown asked, obviously enjoying the other's discomfort. "Not that I have any qualms about hearing your lovely voice again."

"Let's skip the pleasantries, shall we?" Kurapika suggested, although his tone left no room for argument. "I have an offer for you."

"Aww, you're no fun. And I can't help you. Not when you're trapped on some murder boat in the middle of the ocean," Hisoka informed him matter-of-factly.

"Don't try to fool me," Kurapika warned, "I knew that you were on this damned boat the moment you stepped foot on board."

"Why, that must be some high-clearance information," the clown joked. "Dare I attribute it to your new position, Rat?"

"It's temporary. I'm not here for small talk, Hisoka. Can you assist me or not?"

"But I'm busy," the other man protested childishly.

Kurapika raised a skeptical brow. "So I've heard. Did a number on the Spiders, did you?"

"All in good fun."

 _Yeah, if you mean death,_ Kurapika thought darkly. "You're wasting your time. They're not here."

"Ah, had a nice little chat with good ol' Lucilfer, did you?"

The Kurta did not rise to take his bait.

"Well, he's wrong. The glasses girl is a couple rooms away from me as we speak. Poor girl had to watch her nice little samurai friend die a couple months ago. I thought I'd come back for a quick follow-up check. Give Kuroro a bit of a scare." Hisoka's voice was alight with a sort of maniac glee, now, and Kurapika sighed.

"Look, if you cannot for some inane reason find the time to strike a deal with me, then I'm hanging up." This kind of thing always worked for the Fourth Prince, so Kurapika hoped that it would be the same with the murderous clown.

Sure enough, after a few seconds of silence, Hisoka spoke up again. "Sure, sure, whatever you require, sheesh." Kurapika grit his teeth. Dealing with the other man was always so nerve-wracking, although it really helped with his patience-building.

"What do you want in return?" Kurapika asked, tentatively.

"Ah, nothing this time. You already owe me too much, anyways."

"Do I?"

Hisoka chuckled, and Kurapika could almost  _see_ the smirk on his face. "More than you know. You're lucky that I disposed of Nobu for you. He was quite intent on offing you, if his malicious vendetta was any indication."

Pushing away the numerous questions that bubbled up, Kurapika swiftly changed the subject. "Let us discuss what I need from you, yes?"

"Oh?"

* * *

It wasn't until after the death of the Thirteenth Prince Marayam that Queen Oito started getting anxious.

The young prince had been attempting to escape the Succession War when Prince Benjamin's men had found them. It was over in seconds, and the bodyguards had the whole situation cleaned up before any of the King's guards even had a chance to investigate. The kill was claimed by the First Prince, and that was the end of it.

"That will not happen to us, will it?" the Queen asked, holding her daughter close to her chest. The information had been announced publicly at the most recent banquet, and Kurapika was starting to associate the parties with the onerous

"Of course not," Kurapika assured her gently. "I swear to you that I will get you and your child out of the Succession War safely."

"But my concern is that while we have a truce with the Fourth Prince, we possess no such alliance with Prince Benjamin or Prince Tubeppa," she revealed, expression worried.

"Our window of opportunity opens in approximately three days, your highness. We should be able to make it."

"What if we cannot? The higher princes have already started removing the lower ones," Queen Oito pointed out, looking down at her hands. "I'm just... worried." She glanced upwards. "I apologize. You are trying your best to get us out alive, and I am only bothering you with my concerns."

Kurapika smiled softly. "You are doing what you should be. Your child is your priority, as she should be, and it is my job that I ensure your happiness and safety."

The Queen nodded, but she still looked uncertain.

"If it will ease your conscience," Kurapika added gently, "then I will see what I can do to move up the next phase of the plan. Does that sound acceptable?"

"Thank you," she replied gratefully. Recomposing herself, she managed a brief ghost of smile. "Now, I do believe that the king is hosting another royal banquet tonight. Will the Fourth Prince be needing your services."

 _Services._ What a delicate little word that implied so much. It disgusted him. "I believe so, unfortunately," he answered, grimacing. "And while I am in his line of sight, please try to keep your distance. He is under the impression that you do not approve of me."

"Ok." The queen nodded, seeming determined. "I'll do whatever I can to help."

* * *

_See you tonight,_

_Fourth Prince Tserriednich_

_P.S. Wear something for me, will you?_

Kurapika made a noise of displeasure.  _Will you?_ It sounded so perfectly pleasant, but they both knew that it was more of an order than a request. Shaking his head, he sifted through the clothes that he had packed, searching for something that would deem him "attractive" in the prince's eyes.

The outfit he had worn during the first encounter with him would be suitable, but Kurapika knew that he had to pull out all the stops if he wanted to sway Tserriednich into accelerating the plan. Finally, he managed to fish out a suit that would suffice. The blonde sighed. He had bought it a couple years ago to ease up a business deal for the Nostrades; just something that would distract the head of the family long enough to persuade him into forming a company-merger deal with him.

It had worked, and Kurapika had chucked the outfit into the back of his closet to collect dust.

But now... now, Kurapika would have to don on the ridiculous suit once again. It was sickening, the amount of extra attention he got when he dressed a certain way. From Tserriednich it was even worse, he was sure, because he was actually obligated to return any affections from the monstrous man.

He was stuck between the attentions of two monsters, Kurapika realized.

The Fourth Prince repulsed Kurapika, that he knew. The sensation of his icy fingers traveling down the column of his spine was something that he had tried to purge from his memory, and feeling the man's lips against his own might have been the most horrifying experience he'd ever had. He'd scrubbed his own lips raw after that instance, desperate to get any trace of the prince off of his mouth.

With Kuroro, however, Kurapika wasn't completely decided. The man had displayed signs of interest towards him, some of which that went a little further than simple lust, something that confused the blond greatly. It had never occurred to him that the Spider Head could ever hold true affections for anyone.

He understood what the primal, foolish part of himself wanted from Kuroro, but it was something that the rational part of his brain was wholly terrified of.

Kurapika supposed that if he lived through this final mission he'd have to sort through his feelings officially, but now was not the time.

* * *

Kuroro straightened his tie, before looking into the mirror and straightening it again.

He wasn't sure why he was so nervous; this would be his second banquet during his time as Royal Kakin Bodyguard. Perhaps it was the news that the final stage of whatever Kurapika was planning was about to come to fruition that had him on edge. Bill had walked into his quarters earlier that afternoon to deliver the report, and the other man had given him the 'don't fuck this up' look before walking out.

That must be it.

If Kurapika managed to pull his plan off, then he'd be able to collect his payment and return to his spiders. The he could... no, he  _would_ come back for Kurapika. If only to see him again, anyways.

"You ready to go?"

The dark-haired man spun around, catching sight of Kurapika standing by the door. The blond had been talking to Queen Oito, of course, and it wasn't until Kurapika turned around that he was able to see what he was wearing. Kuroro's mouth went dry.

The outfit wasn't scandalous, per se, but it was certainly more daring than the Kurta's normal attire. The suit was made of a snow-white cashmere, hugging the blond's soft curves and clinging to his lean frame. A paper-thin undershirt outlined Kurapika's physique, leaving just enough to imagination. The light color was attention-catching but not blinding, accentuating the pretty blush on the younger man's cheeks. A simple silk tie colored a dark red was tied loosely around Kurapika's collar, which had its top buttons popped open, looking moments away from slipping away to reveal the smooth skin underneath.

Kuroro forgot the simple concept of words for a brief moment.

"What is it?" Kurapika asked self-consciously. "Do you think that this will be enough to distract the Fourth Prince?"

 _It's damn well distracting me._ "Of course," Kuroro replied smoothly, having regained the ability to speak. Once conversation had turned away from him, he tugged at his shirt collar, a tell-tale light flush crawling up his neck.

While part of him wanted to take the blond right then and there, the logical side of him knew that such an action, no matter how pleasing it would be, would only serve to worsen his relationship with the blond in the long run. Still, that didn't stop the foolish part of him from admiring how appealing Kurapika looked, something that the rest of him was painfully aware of.

Then, Kurapika flashed a brilliant smile at Prince Woble, who was laughing in Queen Oito's arms, and Kuroro's resolve twitched.

_It's going to be a long night._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added Notes
> 
> 1) Um... so things get a little weird in the next chapter, but please hear me out when I say that Kurapika is being put under terrible situations, so he may have some weird ways to cope.
> 
> 2) Kuroro's still kind of smitten. So that's that.
> 
> 3) So now Hisoka's involved? What's to come of that?
> 
> 4) Kurapika's plan will come into action around chapter ten-ish, I think. It all depends on whether or not I want to rewrite the next few chapters.
> 
> 5) The tension between Kurapika and Kuroro is getting more intense, so what happens when it spirals out of control? (Stay tuned for the next chapter)
> 
> 6) If anyone could beta this for me, that would be fantastic! I just need someone that can kind of proofread the chapters and give a no-go so that I'll be able to regulate my plot better. Please PM me or leave a review if you'd be interested!
> 
> ANOTHER IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: Does anyone have any good story ideas? Have a really great plot that you want to see written for HxH? Please let me know!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and please review!
> 
> unreadable0


	9. I made a promise...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika is chronically confused, and Tserriednich is a creepy as usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Hunter x Hunter
> 
> See bottom of chapter for added notes
> 
> So this chapter gets pretty... weird, but I ran it through a couple people and they said it was passable. Apologies in advance! Also, this story is now up to date on AO3!

Kuroro caught Kurapika in the hallway, when their little party was about to set off for the banquet. If the blond was shocked at the sudden appearance of the Phantom Troupe leader, he didn't show it.

"Is there something you need?" Kurapika asked, noting the other's close proximity with an involuntary trill of excitement. "If so—"

"You look beautiful," Kuroro interrupted smoothly, surprising the shorter man.

The other scoffed dismissively, but the dim lighting caught the slight pink of his cheeks as he tilted his head. Golden hair fell carelessly on one shoulder, ruby earring sparkling like a beacon, and Kuroro swallowed.

"Beautiful enough to attract a monster?" was all the blond said back, voice holding a slight bitterness.

Stepping closer, the dark-haired man took Kurapika's hand, drawing it up towards his lips with purposeful slowness. One heartbeat. Two. Three. The Kurta watched the thief, eyes wide and filled with confusion. A smile curled its way upwards on Kuroro's face as he kissed the other's hand. The gentle scent of something that Kuroro could only describe as sunlight on forest leaves flooded his senses as he drew nearer.

"Well, seeing that you've attracted me, I'd have to say 'yes'," the Spider Head replied softly. The words hung in the tension-charged air for a few moments, fueled by Kurapika's utter disbelief.

Hand reaching upwards to caress the blond's cheek, Kuroro moved in closer as Kurapika's eyes fluttered closed. What little space between them evaporated, and Kurapika ascribed his inhibition to the dizzying adrenaline coursing through his veins. The worry of the night melted away as Kuroro's lips brushed against his own, tentative and unsure, yet thrilling all the same.

The contact felt good, so impossibly good, that Kurapika almost let himself give in. His body craved the other's careful touch, wanted it with an intensity that terrified him. He wanted something that he shouldn't have, something that he  _couldn't_ have. It was tantalizing and repelling all at the same time, like the push and pull of the tides.

_Focus._

And so Kurapika had to lean away, far away from feathery-light contact of Kuroro's lips hovering over his own. At once, the Phantom Troupe leader made to move back, reading the blond's actions as rejection.

"Not now," he told him quietly, but firmly, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the brief moment of escape he was having. "Not when all of this is happening."

"Alright," the Phantom Troupe leader replied, so softly that Kurapika had scarcely heard him.

Refusing to meet the other's eyes, Kurapika spun around towards the exit. "We have to go."

"Unfortunately," Kuroro mumbled, picking up his pace until he was in step with the blond.

* * *

The banquet was grossly extravagant.

Table after table of delicacies, gold and silver dishes gleaming in the bright lighting of the chandeliers overhead. The air was thick and stank of too many expensive perfumes piled together, and satin ballgowns dyed in garish colors stood in sharp contrast with the heavy matter of the event.

Only Queen Oito had dressed appropriately for the evening, sheathed in a black gown that was made to be modest and not at all eye-catching. But, amidst all the other gaudy hues, the youngest queen stood out significantly. Still, despite her reluctant participation in the Succession War combined with the fact that most of the people in the room wanted to kill her daughter, Queen Oito socialized with the higher-up queens with ease.

Kurapika would have been content to stand watch over his two charges for the whole evening, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before he was summoned to the Fourth Prince's side. Kuroro seemed to have caught on to his unease, and he kept throwing concerned glances his way. The blond wasn't sure whether or not he found this annoying or comforting, but he allowed it nonetheless.

Soon, near the end of the night, a hand latched onto his bicep. With a jolt, Kurapika realized that it was time.

"The Fourth Prince requires your presence," the bodyguard clutching his arm announced. "Please come as it is convenient."

Judging by the heavy hold on his person, Kurapika supposed that the man had just said 'come as it is convenient' purely out of protocol, and was not actually giving him a choice on whether or not he would go with him.

Before he could be pulled away, however, Kuroro tugged him close for a brief moment, passing it off as a quick exchange between coworkers.

"Be careful," Kuroro advised, lips distractingly close to Kurapika's ear.

Rolling his eyes, Kurapika nodded in acknowledgment. "You make it sound like I've never done this before."

"I will actually hunt you down if you don't come back, got it?" the dark-haired man threatened.

"Duly noted," the Kurta replied, slipping out of his grasp. Kuroro watched the other go with something akin to worry brewing in his chest.  _How odd._

As Kurapika followed the bodyguard through the crowd, he tried not to notice the numerous looks he attracted. He hated drawing attention to himself, be it good or bad. But, if getting a few appraising stares would earn him the Scarlet Eyes, then so be it.

He was lead into a side room, extravagantly decorated like the banquet hall, but unmistakably private. There, the bodyguard tossed him a derisive sneer and left, abandoning Kurapika in the heart of the lions' den. Kurapika didn't let his unease or nervousness show on his face, however, as the prince was sitting only a few scant meters away from him. His nen-beast was surprisingly absent, something that Kurapika noted with relief.

"White," the prince said suddenly, and Kurapika spun to face him. "The color of innocence, purity,  _light._ "

Pinning on a dazzling smile, Kurapika took his time making his way towards the prince. "Mm... in modern times, that is. A long time ago it was different, was it not? White meant something else..."

"Death," Tserriednich finished, eyes lighting up with glee.

Kurapika said nothing in reply, not trusting himself to formulate anything appropriate. Instead, he stopped at Tserriednich's chair, bending down to kiss the ring hanging off of the monster's finger. Immediately, he was dragged down to sink into the prince's lap, just as planned. Turning around in his arms, Kurapika tried to keep up the facade of shyness as he bit his lip, glancing up demurely at the prince form under his lashes.

_1...2...3..._

A pair of lips met his own, and Kurapika thanked whomever was watching over him at that moment that the prince had gotten the sickening stench of blood off of him.  _Just two more minutes of this._ Mentally, he counted the seconds until the time was over and he could proceed with his plan.

"I'm ready," Kurapika told him, lips hovering over the other's in a teasing manner.

"That's up to me to decide," the Fourth Prince responded, tracing a finger down his neck.

"Your highness, I'm afraid that you do not understand," Kurapika stressed, wrapping his arms around the other's neck. "Queen Oito is becoming less and less tolerant of my visits as the war goes on. This will be my last meeting with you if she has her way."

Tserriednich stiffened minutely, and Kurapika knew that he had won.

It was quite a good trap, Kurapika had to admit. He had bided his time, waiting for that small window in time when the younger princes were the most uneasy, and bent the strict rules of the Succession War to his favor. Princes had supreme order over their privately hired bodyguards. No matter if it was the First Prince or the Thirteenth, princes could not order around bodyguards that were not their own. The rule left a little room for interpretation, because if the bodyguard wished to assist the other prince in a plot, there were no restrictions if it was done quietly and without any trace of sabotage.

And since Prince Woble was too young to make suitable choices in the public's opinion, Queen Oito had temporary control over the reins.

"Our agreed time was in a few days," Tserriednich reminded him, tone edged with warning.

"The window is closing earlier than I anticipated," the blond informed him, refusing to back down.

"How am I to be sure that you will not double cross me? The chances that you will turn on me the moment my men enter your domain are unfavorable for me."

_Here we go._ "What can I do to make you trust me?" Kurapika forced himself to say, anticipating the worst. If the prince wished to sleep with him... well, it was a concession that he would have to make. At least, that was what he kept telling himself.

A gleam of keen interest appeared in the prince's eyes, and the Kurta braced himself.

"Anything?"

"Anything."

Tserriednich thought over this for a few moments, and Kurapika stewed in the silence. "Change of plans. I want to ensure that you will not betray me."  _Fat chance of that._ "When my men arrive at the door, you must open the door yourself. I will instruct them to not enter unless you have let them in personally. And I wish to see the bodies myself. None of your tricks or gimmicks here."

At once, Kurapika's mind picked up the prince's motive. Tserriednich wanted to make sure that he would not flee when the bodyguards arrived, and wanted to make sure that once the bodyguards had access to the room, Kurapika would be an easy target. The fact that the prince wanted to see the bodies was another thing. The prince's private army could be persuaded if given good reason or bribery, but one could not lie to fact. Kurapika would have to ensure that every member of his own party was dead, as pretending to be dead was well out of the window.

Kurapika sighed inwardly. He had been set up for death from the very moment that he had started this plot, that he understood. But to have the odds stacked against him so highly was frightening. He had clung to the hope that he would somehow pull out of the plan alive, had told himself that he'd see Gon and Killua again, one last time. Then, Kurapika had a sickening thought.

If Tserriednich was fine with him dying the very next day, that meant that he had full intention of taking every last bit of Kurapika that he could. And if he refused, he was only sealing his fate.

Tserriednich smiled as he saw realization that flickered momentarily in the other's eyes.

"So are you actually ready for this, pet?" the prince purred, drawing the blond closer.

Kurapika's stomach churned at the prospect, but he pushed himself to remain calm.  _What do I do? What can I do?_ The Fourth Prince smirked, moving in to capture the other's lips. A frigid hand traveled down to toy with the buttons of his slacks, and Kurapika's mind slammed into full-on panic mode. As another hand reached upwards to undo the clasps of his dress-shirt one by one, Kurapika pretended to sigh in pleasure and broke of the kiss, tilting his head with the pretense of giving better access of his neck to Tserriednich. In actuality, he was allowing himself full use of his vision without rousing suspicion.

He scanned the room frantically, searching for something that he could use to flee. After a few moments, he caught sight of a glass decanter of wine on a nearby table. Quickly, he seized it and, before the prince could react, tapped the pitcher against the other's head with as little force as necessary. Immediately, Tserriednich went limp, and Kurapika thanked the heavens that his nen beast was not present.

At least not for about another few seconds, that is.

Running for the door, Kurapika slipped into the now-empty banquet hall unnoticed. Helpful that Tserriednich had thought about sending his guards away in preparation of bedding him, Kurapika noted with no small amount of irony. Dialing a number in his phone, Kurapika spoke curtly once the call was accepted.

"There's been a change in plans."

* * *

Kurapika could still feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, intermingling with the shock and stress of the past hour. The first thing he did was wash the taste of the prince out of his mouth, a daily practice that he had exercised over the past couple days.

Then, the logical side of him commanded him to sleep, lest he not be in prime condition for the complex series of actions that he'd have to carry out the next day. The foolish, scared part of him was having none of that, however. That part of him urged him to take advantage of what was sure to be the last precious hours of his life. It wanted him to something, but he wasn't sure  _what_. And that terrified him.

Nonetheless, he forced himself to go through the motions of sleep, making himself climb into his bed one last time. Yet, sleep still evaded him. His mind buzzed with plans, and the room was suddenly too suffocating to remain in. After a few more minutes of fruitless tossing and turning, Kurapika gave up his attempts.

Rising, Kurapika found himself walking in the direction of Kuroro's room. To his surprise, the other man was still awake, reading a book seemingly without a care in the world. At once, Kuroro noticed his presence, closing his reading and walking towards him.

"Kurapika?" he asked, tone unsure and touched with concern. For some reason, his voice calmed the whirlwind of thoughts brewing in Kurapika's mind. "How did it go? Did he agree?"

Nodding numbly, Kurapika found that he could not speak. He craved for something, something that he did not know the name of. It was strikingly familiar to the feeling that he'd had earlier, in the hallway with Kuroro. It couldn't be the same, could it?

Kuroro took the blond's continued silence as an indication that something had happened. "What happened? Did he do anything?" he demanded, tone becoming darker. "I swear, if he has—"

Overwhelmed by the  _thing_ that had been growing between them and the turbulent events of the night, Kurapika surged forward on impulse, cutting off the Phantom Troupe leader's words. Kuroro froze in shock, but after a moment, the dark-haired man responded with fervor.  _Oh._ So that was what he had been wanting, Kurapika realized.

Allowing himself to be lost in the kiss, Kurapika looped his arms around the other man's neck, leaning against him fully. The two of them stumbled backwards, miraculously landing on the mattress behind them. Kuroro's lips made their way down the column of his neck, and Kurapika's breathing hitched. He hadn't known that a kiss could feel like  _that_. A kiss landed on his collarbone, startlingly warm against his chilled skin, and Kurapika's brain short-circuited.

A hand brushed against his hip, fingers barely skimming the skin underneath the sleep shirt. Kurapika stifled a gasp at the contact, the desperate sound escaping his lips unbidden. Kuroro smiled against his skin, kissing the curve of his neck gently, and Kurapika became aware of one thing: it was one thing to pretend to have lost control, and another to have actually lost it.

As quickly as it had started, however, the moment ended. Kuroro drew away, and Kurapika immediately noticed the distinct lack of warmth.

"We should stop," Kuroro advised, voice coming out thicker than usual.

"Why?" Kurapika asked, a dazed accent curling softly over his words.

Something in Kuroro froze when he heard it. There was something familiar about it, something that he couldn't quite place about it that brought up memories that he couldn't quite touch.

"Why?" Kurapika reiterated, surprised by his own boldness. The blond tugged the other man closer. Kuroro shook off the strange feeling.

Kuroro laughed, the sound coming out a tad bitter. "Earlier, you wouldn't even let me kiss you. I think that you're in shock right now, and I don't want you to make decisions that you'll regret." The lie was plausible, Kuroro supposed. The truth was that if they continued, he wasn't sure that he would be able to control himself. For the first time in his life, a small part of him wanted it to be real. A small, minuscule,  _human_  part of him wished for normalcy, wished that Kurapika wanted him too.

That seemed to jar Kurapika back to his senses. Clarity flashed through his eyes, and Kuroro was almost sad to see it. Carefully extricating himself from the blond's grasp, Kuroro supposed that the blond wanted him to go. But, to his utter astonishment, a hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back down.

"Don't go just yet," Kurapika found himself saying. "Please."  _What is there to lose?_ Kurapika thought to himself.

For a brief second, Kuroro simply stared at him, as if wondering what had brought about such a drastic change of heart. Kurapika's temporary boldness wavered a little bit, and he was about to apologize and flee when the dark-haired man lied back down, an arm coming up to drape over Kurapika's side. Unconsciously, the blond shifted closer to Kuroro.

"Are you scared?" Kuroro's voice sounded softly in the night air. "Is that why?"  _Is that why you're acting like this?_

"Scared for tomorrow? No," Kurapika replied honestly. "Scared for every single day after that? Yes."  _If there even is a day after that._

"Did he do something to you?"

Ah, the question that Kurapika was hesitant to answer. After a few moments of thinking, he decided to tell the truth. Just for the heck of it. "Tonight... tonight was difficult. The prince allowed me to proceed with the plan..."

"But?"

"But he had a stipulation. Unspoken, of course."

Kuroro paused, going absolutely still, and Kurapika closed his eyes as he continued.

"Sleep with him, or I die." Kurapika paused for a moment, trying to gather up his thoughts. "If I agreed to let him take advantage of me, then I might have gained better footing in his eyes, and the chances of my survival might have increased. If I refused, then I would be sealing my fate indefinitely."

"And did you?" Kuroro's voice came out dangerously low, and the aura-charged air thickened menacingly.

Turning around to face the other man, Kurapika let a small smile creep over his features. "No. No, I did not." Kuroro opened his mouth to say something, but Kurapika shook his head slightly. "Before you ask, the Fourth Prince is currently unconscious and probably in some banquet room or another."

In the darkness, Kurapika could barely see the Spider Head, but he could almost see the conflicted look on the other's face. "What can I do to get you out of this? I can help you; I'm sure of that."

"There is nothing for you to do. You just have to trust me," Kurapika told him sadly. "What will happen is just going to have to happen."

"You're not planning on dying on me, right?" Kuroro asked, voice tentative.

Kurapika turned away. He didn't want to have to look at Kuroro when he lied.

"No."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added Notes
> 
> 1) Every time I have to write the word 'pet', I cringe. It's gross and creepy and I've tried not to use it in this story, but it's appropriate for good ol' sicko Tserriednich. So yeah.
> 
> 2) So Tserriednich is attracted sexually to Kurapika, but he regards him still as just another object to be used and cast aside. No attached feelings, I guess.
> 
> 3) Kurapika is pretty sure that he's going to die tomorrow, which is why he's going all sorts of crazy. His line of thought is 'Well, if I'm going to die, I might as well do whatever I want until that time happens,' as long as it doesn't affect his friends in any negative way. Which is why he didn't visit Leorio or something.
> 
> 4) Bill is on watch during the last snippet. So yeah.
> 
> 5) Next chapter is still under massive construction, but I should get it out on normal schedule.
> 
> 6) Kuroro is becoming more... human? The first and last scenes are not exactly my favorite for characterization, but it'll make more sense later (I hope).
> 
> 7) Projection for story length is ~ 14 chapters, I think.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and please comment!
> 
> unreadable0


	10. And I will not break it...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika is conflicted, and Kuroro finds out why. Also, Tserriednich messes everything up without even making an appearance in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight hiatus, but I'm back with another short chapter! Thank you all so much for your awesome support! It means so much!!!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Hunter x Hunter

Kurapika was torn.

Sleep had evaded him all of the previous night, but for reasons entirely different from what he had expected. The apprehensions of his fragile plans had crossed his mind once or twice, yes, but he found that instead his mind was occupied on more painful things. Things that still ran tirelessly through his min at that very moment. Of his friends, whom he would have to betray for a second time. Of Leorio, specifically, whom he had seen as a lover, once, before he realized that the doctor was just another,  _damned_ collateral in his damaging life. Of his family, and the paradox that ripped his conscience to pieces.

He was achieving his goals; he was finally going to be able to atone for the sins he had brought onto his clan. Yet, here he was, wrapped up in the arms of the his greatest sin of all.

The arm around his waist shifted slightly, hand feeling too warm for that of a murderer's. He had difficulty comprehending that those hands, that had, just hours ago, touched him with such gentleness and patience, had rested without mercy on the cooling bodies of his clansmen.

Kurapika turned carefully in the other's embrace, careful not to rouse the man. Facing him, the blond's resolve wavered slightly. Kuroro's face looked so deceptively innocent, so calm, as he slept. Running a tentative hand down the other's face, Kurapika tried to compose himself. He couldn't afford to get too mixed up in messy feelings such as these. Not when he was so close.

But something was stirring deep in his mind, awoken by the tumultuous events of the past few weeks. The hunger of the last night had quieted, replaced by something much more frightening. He had experienced it only once before, and it had only ended in blood on his hands.

Kurapika tried his best to shove such foolishness out of his mind, a part of his wishing for the cold cruelty that he had possessed in Yorknew. Had he become too soft?

Extricated himself from the other's grasp, he stood up, the last traces of lethargy exiting his system. He dressed quickly, not quite sure what to think about the all-too-familiar scent of pine and parchment sticking to his skin. Casting one last look at the sleeping man in front of him, Kurapika slipped out of the room.

* * *

Kuroro woke to an empty bed the next morning. He knew that he shouldn't have been surprised, but the cold sheets of the bed were still disappointing. Checking his watch, he noted the time; one hour before the plan started. Throwing himself into routine, he tried his best to stay focused. Once this job was done, he would be able to pursue Kurapika properly.

All he had to do was keep the blond alive.

Just as he had suspected, Kurapika was in the queen's chambers. He was dressed in a crisp suit, not a hair out of place, and Kuroro immediately preferred the Kurapika that he had held the previous night. The one with mussed-up hair, soft clothes; the one that welcomed his touch.

As soon as Kurapika noticed his presence, he stopped talking. Turning his head slightly to glance at the dark-haired man, Kuroro was encouraged to see a light blush tinting the Kurta's cheeks. Raising a brow, Kuroro smiled at the younger man, something that was subtly returned.

"Alright," Kurapika began, once Bill had strolled in with a mug of coffee in hand. "The Fourth Prince's men will be here in half and hour. It is necessary for us to be ready by then. There is much at stake here, and we cannot afford to make any errors."

Looking at each of them in turn, Kurapika continued. "It does not matter what happens, or what goes wrong. Your first priority is the Queen and Prince Woble. Nothing else should take precedence." He shot a meaningful look at Kuroro. "As far as I know, the prince is sending a party of half a dozen men, but we should be prepared for more."

"There are only three of us here," Bill pointed out, "and an excess of six of them. The math doesn't exactly add up, seeing as we are dealing with an elite army."

"I'll take those odds," Kurapika replied, shrugging.

"And once we incapacitate the guards," Bill prompted, "what do we do next?"

"That part of the plan hasn't changed. The Queen's handmaidens have already left, so at least that's collateral out of the way. You get our charges to the nearest exit. I've prepared it for you; there is a set of stairs leading out from the servant's quarters, and you must take them. It will lead to the kitchens, which should be empty at this hour, and the rest is rather self-explanatory."

"What of the guards up here? How are we going to hide the evidence?" Bill asked.

"I will take care of it. You just have to trust me."

"I'm sorry," Kuroro cut in, raising a hand like a common schoolboy. "But what is the exact objective here? I understand that I joined this little party late, but I'm still very much unclear of how your intent to simply flee during the confusion went to actually engaging in the conflict."

"Tserriednich's conditions for the plan are harsh, but I have found a way to bend it to our advantage. You will just have to trust me," Kurapika responded, brown eyes snapping to each person in the room. "Do you trust me?"

A quiet chorus of 'yes' rose up, and the blond nodded, pleased.

"Now, the plan is that while Kuroro and I work to incapacitate the guards, Bill, you will usher the queen and the Prince out of their quarters. You must watch the door in case Kuroro and I are on the other side. If after three minutes neither of us show, then take our charges and go. I've enforced the door with my nen, so once it is closed, no one can enter through it from the outside as long as I am alive. Do you understand?"

Bill swallowed nervously, something akin to dread pooling in his stomach. "Of course."  _This cannot end well._

"And Kuroro," Kurapika began, voice cutting around a little in his throat at the other's name, "should I give the order for it, you will drop everything and assist Bill. There will be no excuses and no hesitation, yes?"

There was an obvious pause before Kuroro reluctantly spoke. "Sure." The small word stabbed mutinously in the back of Kuroro's mouth.

"Good." Kurapika clapped his hands together. "Now, you all are dismissed to carry out what you need to do before the Fourth Prince's soldiers arrive." Bill and Queen Oito dipped their heads in acknowledgment, filing out of the room, but Kuroro hung back. After a moment of weighing his options, the Phantom Troupe leader went into action.

"Last night," the dark-haired man murmured, making his way forward, "are we just going to disregard it?"

There a pause, then. Kurapika fidgeted minutely with his pen, hands trembling with an unknown emotion. The silence stretched. Kuroro's heart sank a little bit. Perhaps the previous night had just been a fluke?

"Is that a yes?" he asked, voice miraculously even.

The blond's head snapped up, but still he remained with his back to Kuroro. "Do you remember?"

Confusion flickered over Kuroro's features before he regained his composure. "Remember what, exactly?"

"Do you remember the first time that we encountered each other?" Kurapika shot back, quickly.

 _Oh._ "Yorknew City. When you kidnapped me," Kuroro answered, the memories welling up.

The other man sighed. "No," Kurapika said, with more force than he intended. Voice softening, he added, "No, that is not right."

Kuroro took this as an indication to step forward. "No?"

"Seven years ago, you came into the neighboring town of Satoko," Kurapika explained haltingly, as if he was reliving a painful recollection. Which for all Kuroro knew, he was. "There you asked for directions from a random kid off of the street. But you knew, of course you knew, where he had come from. He had exactly what you wanted, and yet you let him live."

A single fragment of memory struck Kuroro. A flash of blond hair, and voice, younger and more lively than what was familiar,  _"I'm Kurapika! Pleasure to meet you..."_ "You..."

Kurapika turned to him then, a sad smile playing at his lips. " _I'll keep an ear out for you,_ " the blond recited, tone devoid of any bitterness or sorrow. "Well, it seems that you forgot."

It felt like someone had filled his veins with ice, with the amount of cold shock that slammed into Kuroro. How easily he had discarded the name, discarded the faceless boy like an empty wrapper. It hadn't seemed important at the time, but now he couldn't imagine how he'd forgotten. And Kurapika... it must have been hell to have that kind of guilt resting on his shoulders... for the first time, he felt regret.

Not exactly regret for his killing, but regret for the broken person he'd left in his wake.

Unknowingly, Kuroro took a step towards the blond. Kurapika didn't seem to have the will to move away.

"I used to wonder if it would have been better..."

The hollow note in the other's voice set off alarm bells in the Phantom Troupe leader's head. "Better?"

Kurapika met his gaze for the first time, and Kuroro noted the red stirring behind his slate contacts. "Better if you had just killed me right then and there."

The dark-haired man was at a loss for words. All of his thoughts had seemingly dried up and died in his head. "I-I..."

Shaking his head, Kurapika looked down. "... but now I know." There was something tightening at the back of his throat, but Kurapika fought it back. "As long as I can return the eyes to them, then it will have been enough.  _I_ will have been enough."

Kuroro moved closer, cautiously. "Kurapika..."

"If I don't come back," Kurapika began, grey eyes pinning Kuroro with a sharp stare, "then promise me that you will not hesitate."

"You will survive. I'll make sure of it," Kuroro insisted, but Kurapika shook his head adamantly.

"Promise me."

Sighing, the Spider complied. "Alright, I promise." It was an empty statement, one that Kuroro didn't mean to uphold, something that the both of them knew, Kurapika exhaled shakily.

"Good."

Something inside of Kuroro's chest hammered painfully. It was suffocating to see the blond so empty and bereft of his usual fire. The need to touch him, to reach out for him, was overwhelming. Then, when he had just about drowned in his thoughts, Kuroro leaned in. Capturing the other's lips, suddenly Kuroro could breathe again.

Their lips met again and again, although none of the fervor from the previous night was present. It was slower this time, but with no less amount of passion behind it. Kuroro's hands migrated up to cup Kurapika's cheek, and the blond leaned against his touch with only slight hesitation.

It was a desperate gesture, and Kuroro tasted goodbye on Kurapika's lips.

"I'm sorry," Kurapika whispered in between kisses. A slight clink of chains was heard, then, and Kuroro realized at once what Kurapika was doing.

Breaking away, Kuroro tried to step back, but it was too late. A nen-cloaked chain pierced through his heart, and Kuroro winced at the sudden sharpness. Looking up into the other's crimson eyes, the metaphorical knife in Kuroro's gut twisted in deeper.

"I had to," was all that Kurapika said. "I had to."

Before Kuroro could demand to have the conditions off of him, before he could even make a move towards the Kurta, a series of sharp raps sounded against the door.

"He's here," Kurapika whispered to himself. A brief flash of fear appeared in the blond's eyes, and Kuroro so wished that he could erase it away. But the chains bound fast around his heart said otherwise.

Bill and Queen Oito hurried into the front room, as directed. Giving a slight nod to his charges, Kurapika approached the door. Pressing the intercom button, Kurapika fought to keep his voice steady.

"May I ask who is requesting an audience with the Thirteenth Prince?"

The video feed fizzled into focus, and Muhan grinned back gleefully at him. Kurapika inwardly sighed. Could this day get any worse?

"A special visit from the Fourth Prince... to address some  _concerns._ "

Turning back to his friends, Kurapika gave them a brittle smile. The blond set his stopwatch for three minutes.

"Of course," Kurapika forced himself to reply, and he unlocked the door.

At once, a swarm of bodyguards entered the room, and gunshots rang out amidst the chaos. Deflecting the majority of the bullets with his chains, Kurapika did a mental headcount. Eighteen. Prince Tserriednich had sent triple what he had expected.  _He must really want me dead. At least the feeling's mutual._  Silently urging at Bill to get the Queen and her daughter away, Kurapika tried to remain level-headed.

Eighteen men, some of them nen-users. Two remaining bodyguards.

Logically, nine for each. Apparently, logic was something lost on Tserriednich's bodyguards, as twelve were currently focusing the brunt of their attacks onto the blond, leaving the remaining six to Kuroro.

Kurapika allowed himself a quick glance at his watch. Two minutes and twenty seconds. _Might as well take out as many as I can._

Swiftly, Kurapika dropped out of his defensive stance. There was no need to cover such a large radius, anyway, and he trusted that Kuroro could handle himself. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the dark-haired man skillfully darted around his opponents, his Ben's knife in hand and two odd fish circling around him.

Turning his attention back to his own group, he noticed that they had all stilled, as if waiting for something.

"Well, don't all of you move at once," Kurapika quipped, readying his dowsing chain.

"Boss gave us special orders to bring you back in one piece," Muhan called out gleefully. Kurapika sighed. He had  _just_ managed to forget that the idiotic man was present. "I'm sure that you'll great strung up on his wall," the bodyguard drawled, "'cause the Prince likes things that don't talk back." Muhan sneered. "But I guess you always were to  _busy_ to talk—"

"Do choose your next words carefully," Kurapika cut in, voice sharp and carefully measured.

"Or what?" Muhan challenged. "You no longer have the protection of my boss. I guess he got tired of having a whor—"

Kurapika called his chains back, feeling no satisfaction. Kuroro laughed, a cold, mirthless thing, from his position across the room, and the remaining eleven bodyguards charged. The blond lost himself in the fray, not trusting himself to think.  _Eleven... ten... nine... eight... seven... six..._

The remaining half-dozen looked shaken, but they didn't show any signs of retreating, much to their credit. With Kuroro's help, Kurapika cleaned up the remaining. The last six were nen-less, but Kurapika was still exhausted by the time the last body dropped. The words of the last bodyguard still rung in his ears.

 _"We're just the first wave,_ _"_ he'd said, an eerie smile on his lips as passed.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Kurapika's sighed. "There are more coming."

"We can handle them," Kuroro told him confidently. Kurapika shot him an undecipherable look.

"No." He stole a glance at his watch.  _Seven seconds._ "We need to go." Not waiting for a confirmation, Kurapika grabbed the other's arm and steered him to the entrance. The distant stomping of boots sounded from behind them. "Hurry."

They were at the door now, and Kurapika could make out the faint sounds of breathing behind it. Still, Kuroro hesitated, head snapping back to look at him.

"You don't plan on going with me, do you?"

The incoming drum of soldiers was closer now, but the words and Kurapika's lips seemed to have died.

"There's no time," he said, looking down. "Now go." He could hear the guards were only a couple meters away.

Kuroro couldn't breathe, much less move.

"Go!" Kurapika whispered, voice cracking. He forced the door open and shoved the black-haired man through the entrance.

"No. No, Kurapika, we can figure this out," Kuroro assured him, panic creeping into his words. "I can't—you can't—"

In hindsight, maybe Kurapika should have said something more profound, more comforting. Maybe he should have told Kuroro that he'd be okay, or that he would just have to trust him to get through. But the only thing that escaped his mouth was a strangled, " _I'm sorry._ "

The uncomposed expression on Kuroro's face looked so out of place that it made Kurapika's determination waver. Then the footsteps got louder, echoing in his ears, and Kurapika's mind went on overdrive.

The soldiers flooded the kitchen, and Kurapika heaved the door shut, sealing it with his nen.

_No one gets in, and no one gets out._

Facing down Fourth Prince's bodyguards, Kurapika sharpened his resolve.

* * *

Kuroro stared at the door in shock. The door practically glowed with the blond's aura protecting it, and the chains tightened warningly around Kuroro's heart. He wanted to burst through the door, to do  _something,_ but Kurapika had taken even that away from him. Once again, Kurapika had burst into his life and stolen everything away from him.

"We need to leave now," he bit out, fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides.  _Stay calm._ Bill and Queen Oito stood behind him, still frozen. Prince Woble whimpered, as if understanding what was going on. When no one made a move to leave, Kuroro spun to look at them, face once again a flawless mask of indifference. "We can't let his sacrifice go for nothing. Now, hurry."

This seemed to jar them to their senses. Taking up the rear, Kuroro set his jaw as he walked away from the door, the noises of the battle still sounding strangely from the stairwell. Cold fluid slipped through his veins, paralyzingly cold:  _fear._

He could still feel the warmth of the blond next to him from the previous night, and he clung to it.

_You just have to trust me._

_What will happen is just going to have to happen._

Halfway through their descent, Kuroro felt everything go dead silent, as if the white noise in the back of his mind had lessened. Bill stopped, meeting the dark-haired man's eyes with dread etched into his expression.

They both knew what had happened.

The chains around his heart seemed to tighten, the metal cold as ice. Desperate, Kuroro reached out his nen, searching. Surely, if the blond's nen was still sealing the door...

_One second. Two. Three._

Nothing.

Kuroro couldn't breathe.

_**To be Continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) So Kurapika/Leorio used to be a thing? Not sure how this happened but yeah it happened
> 
> 2) The writing style totally changed because I wrote the first chunk today and the rest of it was fabricated two months ago... so sorry for the discontinuity.
> 
> 3) Sorry for the boatload of cliches... I had some serious trouble getting from point A to B in a way that made sense in this chapter! Next few chapters will hopefully be more smooth, but I need to actually catch up on the manga first to get updated info
> 
> 4) Yeah, I killed Muhan. Whoops?
> 
> 5) I'm operating under the assumption that Kurapika's nen Judgement Chain still remains post-death, so yeah...
> 
> 6) Next chapter will be pretty depressing for a few parts, because Kuroro's coping with our favorite blond's death.
> 
> 7) Anybody notice how Hisoka hasn't shown up yet? :)
> 
> 8) Kurapika finally let Kuroro in on his tragic cliche backstory, so the drama is really going to inflate next chapter(s)
> 
> 9) Any predictions for next chapter? Please feel free to let me know in the comments!
> 
> As always, thanks so much for reading and supporting this fic!
> 
> unreadable0
> 
> PS. follow me on tumblr maybe? unreadable0


	11. It's none of your business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroro mourns Kurapika's death. So does Leorio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. Sorry for the lack of updates in the past few months... it's been very difficult for me. This semester has been very trying, and at first it was the schoolwork and exams that were preventing me from updating. Then, there was a death in my family, and it was extremely hard to find the motivation to do anything. It was my grandfather who first got me into writing, and it just didn't feel right to keep writing without him. I had to take a little break to focus on personal matters, but I'm trying to get myself back into my usual routine. I lost control of a lot of writing projects, and that just really turned me away from pursuing anything else for a while. Apologies for the personal unload, but I just wanted to let you know why I haven't been very active. Anyway, I will be trying to normalize my writing schedule, so please stay tuned! Here is a really short chapter, because I didn't really have the inspiration to stretch this out any longer. Also, I did not do any editing, so please excuse the errors.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Hunter x Hunter
> 
> See bottom of chapter for added notes
> 
> Chapter Eleven

Kuroro breathed in, then out. His hands trembled ever so slightly, hands opening and closing against the phantom warmth of the blond's skin against his own. He didn't know what was happening to him. He'd experienced grief and loss before—he'd mourned his fellow spiders, the so many he had lost. But this was wholly different. It was as if he was breaking apart, bit by bit, and it terrified him.

He'd faced death many times; stared it right in the face and lived to tell the tale, and it had never scared him so much as it did now. It was Death that had taken his friends, and yet he had never flinched at its name... but now, now he could not even begin to fathom the finality of it.

He wanted to scream, to cry out—anything, but he could only stand frozen, eyes fixed blankly on his charges as they lay slumped against the walls of the safe room.

The child in him wanted to deny it, to vehemently deny that the blond was gone. But he was no child, and the truth weighed on him heavily.

_If only. If only. If only._

If only he had what? What could he have done differently? There was nothing that he could have done, and that was what broke him the most.

A part of him wanted to shout about the unfairness of it all. A small, selfish part of him boiled with desperate thoughts.  _Was it worth it?_ Were the lives in front of him worth the sacrifice? Were they worth  _him_?  _No,_ that vicious part of him hissed,  _no, they can never make up for it. No one will ever make up for it._  Kuroro clenched his fists, willing those torturous wanderings away. It would do no good...he had to protect them, for Kurapika's sake.

 _Kurapika._ The man's name stung, although it tasted like honey at his lips. Yes, he would do whatever he could to defend Queen Oito and Prince Woble; he couldn't let the blond's death go for nothing.

After all, it was not his charges' fault that Kurapika was dead. New anger welled up in his stomach as fury resolidified. No, it was that  _prince's_ actions that had gotten him killed. The damned prince, the very same one that had caused Kurapika so much pain. All his anguish and self blame redirected itself, eager to convince himself that it wasn't his own fault. An agonizing blend of emotions burned white-hot through his veins, threatening to swallow him whole.

_Breathe in, out._

What had happened to calm facade? Could he no longer control his own feelings?

"Kuroro? Are you okay?" The queen's soft voice drew his attention to the amount of murderous aura leaking from his body, but he was past caring.

"I can kill him," he offered, voice completely devoid of inflection. He could tear that vile man apart; he could make him feel the pain that he had caused one hundred fold.

"Excuse me?" Oito exclaimed, voice fighting to stay even.

"I can kill Prince Tserriednich, if you wish," Kuroro restated, his empty tone beginning to crack. "You saw so yourself: there is scarcely anything human left in him. After everything that he has done, it would be so  _easy—"_

"No," the queen interrupted, gently but firmly. "No, we must not."

"You don't understand, he—he—" He couldn't say it; he wouldn't say it. Because then it would be real. But he what? He killed one of their guards? It made little difference to Queen Oito. A guard was a guard—replaceable. Kurapika—replaceable. The two words sat heavily on Kuroro's tongue as memories resurfaced from the previous night.

* * *

_The other man's lips were soft against his own, and all of his previous anger towards the Fourth Prince promptly melted away. Kuroro gave a slight groan as the blond's body fell fully against his own, causing the both of them to tumble onto the mattress positioned so perfectly behind them. The hunger in him was scalding, but he contented himself with pressing gentle kisses down Kurapika's neck, not able to hold back the pleased hum that escaped his mouth as the Kurta gasped at his touch._

_He ran his hands down Kurapika's sides, the warmth in him expanding as the blond's arms encircled him, tugging him closer. God, this man was going to be the death of him, in the best way possible. His lust urged him to continue, to sacrifice everything that he had worked for for a single night of pleasure, and he almost gave in. Kurapika's scent was wound so tightly around him, intoxicating and vitalizing all at the same time. His thoughts were clouded, focused only on the man underneath him, and he felt that if he stopped now, he wouldn't be able to survive the night._

_Still, he pulled away, steadfastly trying to ignore the other's flushed and disheveled appearance. "We should stop," he managed to say, and inwardly winced at how affected his voice was. Kurapika hardly seemed to notice._

_"Why?"_

_Kuroro stilled. There was something so familiar..._

_"Why?" Kurapika reiterated, and Kuroro was faintly surprised as the other pulled him closer._

_He couldn't help but let a broken laugh escape him._ Because I want this to be real. Because I want you to want this too,  _he thought, but he couldn't bring himself to say such things. So instead he told him what logic reasoned, hiding away from this new emotion that left him so vulnerable._

_"You're not planning on dying on me, right?" Kuroro asked, something cold gripping his chest. He already knew the answer; they both knew it. But he wanted to hold on to small hope that maybe, just maybe..._

_The blond refused to meet his gaze, turning away from him. "No," he replied, voice quiet but firm._

_The simple response, so heavy with unspoken guilt, hung in the air._

_Kuroro silenced the doubt in his mind. He had to trust that the other man would stay true to his words. He had to trust that the Kurta would not continue down the self-destructive path that he had so regrettably set him on._

_So he settled for holding the other closer, planting a light kiss on Kurapika's shoulder._

_He had to trust._

* * *

Replaceable? Hardly.

"I know, I know," Oito said, tone soothing, as if to shush an agitated child. "But what good will it do to have more blood on our hands?"

Kuroro wanted to protest, to convince her otherwise, but what she said next silenced him.

"It would not have been what Kurapika wanted."

At the sound of the man's name, something in the Spider Head crumpled, and the last bit of hope left him. Gone was the cold-hearted murderer as he slid down next to the queen, defeated. He felt her hand take his, squeezing it reassuringly.

"Alright," he said, voice not even trying to keep even. "Alright."

The two of them didn't move for a long time, mourning the loss of a life that they had become so close to.

* * *

"He left me this number, before," Bill said offhandedly, much later. "Told me to call it, if he didn't make it back," he added, softly, not wanting to wake the queen and Prince Woble, who were sleeping on a cot beside them.

Kuroro looked up, eyes as unreadable as ever. "What are you waiting for, then? Call it," he suggested, tone struggling to hide his pained interest. Bill felt a pang of sympathy for him. Perhaps, he had judged the man incorrectly after all. It certainly appeared that Lucilfer cared for Kurapika way past that of a superficial attraction.

"Would that be wise?"

The three of them were located in a third-class cabin, reserved under a made-up name, so there was a lowered chance of the royal guards tapping the phone lines, but just in case...

"Use mine," the dark-haired man suggested, handing Bill his device. Bill gave him a slight nod in thanks. It figured that the other man had smuggled his own phone with him. Carefully, he withdrew the slip of paper, typing in the digits printed neatly on the parchment. The two of them waited in tense silence as the phone rang out again and again. Perhaps the number had been terminated?

At the last possible second, the line picked up, and a man's voice spoke impatiently into the speaker.

"This is Leorio Paladiknight speaking. Who is this and why should I give a damn that you called in the middle of my shift?" Bill hesitated for a moment, surprised that the call had even went through.

"Mr. Paladiknight, was it?"

A frustrated sigh was heard at the other end. "Yes. Who is this?"

Bill swallowed. "I am one of Kurapika's coworkers, and I—" He was immediately cut off.

"Kurapika? Is he okay? Is something wrong?" The speaker's tone of voice changed abruptly, at once softer and concerned.  _God, this is going to be so much harder._

"Well, that's what I wanted to discuss—"

"I swear, if he collapsed again... tell him to call me for once, that stubborn—"

The affection coloring the other's words forced Bill to interrupt. "Kurapika is dead, Mr. Paladiknight. I wish it weren't true, but it is."

The man on the other end stopped, and Bill could almost see the other's shocked expression. "Dead? No, that can't—no" —Leorio laughed in disbelief— "please, if this is some sort of joke—"

The denial in the other's voice made Bill flinch as if he had been slapped. "I'm sorry," he said. "But—"

"Oh, god," the other man whispered. "Please, not him. Oh god,  _Kurapika._ "

Bill steeled his nerves. A large part of him wanted to just hang up the phone right then and there. He was always so awkward when it came to comforting people that were grieving. "Kurapika told me to tell you that he is sorry, and that he wants you to take care of them."

"No, no, no. This isn't fair," Leorio said airily. "This isn't fair, he promised he would come back. He  _promised._ "

Something in the bodyguard cracked. "I'm sorry," he said, again, voice strained. He hung up, hands shaking slightly has he returned it to Kuroro. The other bodyguard seemed eerily unfazed, as if all his emotions had been spent earlier.

This notion was immediately tossed out as Kuroro spoke, voice surprisingly hesitant.

"May I have that?" he asked, eyes flickering to the slip of paper in Bill's hands.

Confused, Bill handed him the parchment. Kuroro took it very carefully, as if it would rip into two at the slightest of disturbances. The man turned over the piece of paper again and again in his hands, as if trying to memorize the neat, cursive handwriting that spanned both sides.

Ah. Maybe he  _was_ wrong about the man.

* * *

_"Don't go yet, please."_

_The hopeless note in the other's voice caused him to look back. Kurapika looked so vulnerable, so exposed, that Kuroro couldn't refuse. The magnitude of the emotions he was feeling terrified him, but he forced his fear down. Laying back down, he placed an arm around the other's side, hand coming to rest softly, almost tentatively, at the blond's waist._

_"Are you scared?" Kuroro found himself asking. "Is that why?" Part of him knew that this_...  _whatever was happening between them at the moment, was simply a creature comfort. Because surely, the Kurta saw him as nothing else but a cruel murderer._

_Kurapika unconsciously shifted closer to the other man, and Kuroro took the time to study the blond's expression. The Kurta stared right back, slate eyes wide and full of swirling emotions. The amount of guilt and sadness threatened to swallow Kuroro whole._

_Finally, Kurapika dropped his gaze. "Scared for tomorrow? No. Scared for every day after that? Yes."_

I would stay with you, every day, if only you would let me,  _Kuroro thought, surprising himself._

_What was happening to him?_

* * *

Once Bill had left, Kuroro's reassurances pushing him to rest, the Spider Head withdrew his phone. The grief and anger that had ravaged him had left him empty and full of something much more terrifying. Calling the number, Kuroro smiled slightly to himself. The succession war would come to an end before the boat would reach the Dark Continent.

It was time to create a symphony, a final parting gift to his lover.

Because while the Queen might not have wanted any more blood on her hands, Kuroro had accepted long ago that his hands would never be truly clean. The chain around his heart tightened in warning. There was going to be a price for his actions—a price for going against the conditions.

But Kuroro had already lost so much already, so why not put everything on the line?

The other line picked up, a quiet woman's voice calling his name questioningly.

"Shizuku. There's something I need for you to do..."

* * *

The room was dark and smelled distinctly of mildew, but Kurapika wasn't one to be picky. The state of the room wasn't his biggest concern, anyway. It was the man he was sharing it with.

"So what are you going to do now?" Hisoka asked amiably, as if he wasn't currently washing blood and gore off of his hands. The blond was tempted not to answer, but he figured that he owed it to the man for his services.

"I'm going to do what I planned to do when I first came onto this damned ship," Kurapika replied, shucking off his coat.

"Oh?"

Feeling an insane little smile flit across his lips, Kurapika tilted his head to the side, shadows throwing eerie patterns across his face. "The Fourth Prince has something that I want."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added Notes:
> 
> 1\. Kurapika pretty much turned Kuroro into a human. Except Kuroro is going to throw out all of that progress soon...
> 
> 2\. Everyone is sad
> 
> 3\. The italics show flashbacks with Kuroro's POV to increase the sadness factor
> 
> 4\. Probably overdid it with the melodrama but eh
> 
> 5\. Now the PT is involved? What?
> 
> 6\. Leorio now knows that his nice blond friend is not coming back. yippee.
> 
> 7\. The whole 'symphony' thing is a reference to the Yorknew Arc, when the PT wreaks havoc over the death of their members. Ominous? I think yes.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and as always, tell me what you think!
> 
> \- Lots of love,
> 
> unreadable0


	12. Nothing I can't handle...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika cheats death and ends up rooming with the devil himself. Kuroro is still sulking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Hunter x Hunter
> 
> Hi! It's been exactly two months since my last update... whoops! This chapter was SO hard to write. I rewrote chunks of this so many times, so what you are seeing is an amalgamation of about one month of bits and bobs that I threw together. Hopefully, the next installment won't take as long, but right now I have absolutely zero idea how to go from point A to point B, so we'll have to see. Anyway, I hope you will enjoy this gloriously unedited thing!

Blood roared in Kurapika's ears as he knocked the bodyguard away, only getting a brief moment of reprieve before he was pushed back by a nen-enforced punch. His vision was becoming fuzzier by the minute, his eyes wearing out their scarlet color. He cursed as blade scraped at his skin, and he cast his chains backwards. A hand found its way to his throat, fingers digging into the soft flesh painfully. Snapping his hand forward, he threw the knife-wielder roughly against the wall. The hand tightened dangerously, and his hands scrabbled desperately at his captive's wrists. 

He was beginning to feel a little light-headed, but the  _guards were trying to break the hidden door down._ Kurapika grit his teeth. He was running out of options. His hatsu was beginning to fizzle out as his lungs screamed for air, and he was just so physically  _weary_ that he wasn't even sure if he would be able to put up a fight for another minute. If _he_ didn't get there soon... 

Seconds trickled by, and Kurapika noted with panic that his consciousness was waning. Succumbing to defeat, he stopped struggling. Ignoring the triumphant shout that sounded from his assailants, he concentrated all his remaining power on shielding the door. He felt a slight pop as _something_ inside of himself cracked, and all of a sudden he felt all of his aura pour out at once. The resulting force propelled the bodyguards several yards backwards, and a sickening crunch was heard as some hit the opposing wall. Kurapika felt his own body sail through the air, and he distantly wondered whether he would die from the impact or his colossal nen expenditure. 

To his surprise, the painful collision that he had been expecting never happened. Instead, he felt something soft wrap around him, setting him gently down onto the ground. Through half-lidded eyes, Kurapika saw the remaining bodyguards crumple as a bright pink substance attached to them, swinging them around like rag dolls. 

_Thank god._

A grinning face slid into view. 

"Oh, looks like  _someone_ overexerted themselves again," Hisoka cooed, extending a pale finger to trace down the blond's cheek. Kurapika wanted to open his mouth to say something, maybe about how the other man was dressed normally for once, but then darkness filled his vision. 

Apparently, he was only out for a few minutes, but it felt like eons. When he came to, the clown was still looming over him, smiling maniacally. Exhaustion tugged at his mind, but Kurapika willed it away, sitting up. 

"You're late," he said accusingly, glaring at the other man. Hisoka laughed in delight at the other's irritation. 

"Ah, where are your manners? Is that any way to thank your savior?" he teased, spreading out his arms grandly. 

Kurapika shot him a deadpan look. "I almost  _died._ "

"But you didn't."

The Kurta sighed. "Thank you," he ground out, reluctance heavy in his tone. Glancing around, he took in the wreckage around him. "We need proceed on to the next step of the plan." It was only a matter of time before Tserriednich sent more soldiers to verify that the job had been finished. He tried to stand up, only to fall back into Hisoka's waiting arms. 

"Uh-uh, little Kurta," he advised, "no more walking for you. You really drained yourself this time. It's honestly a miracle that you're even awake right now." 

Extricating himself out of the other's grasp, Kurapika managed to right himself, gripping the wall. Hesitantly, he reached for his nen. He stifled a curse when his fears were confirmed. He really had worn out all his reserves. It now appeared that his plans would have to put on hold for a little while longer. 

"Yep. You used so much of your already depleted nen that you'll need at least a week to return to a somewhat-normal capacity," Hisoka told him, whistling appreciatively. "You're not even carrying an aura signature on you right now, which is saying something." Kurapika visibly sagged. 

"Return to my previous point: I wouldn't have this problem if you had arrived when I told you to," he said bitterly, hissing as the slashing wound on his side throbbed. 

The other barked out a laugh. "I forget how feisty you are." He waved a hand over three of the guards, using his hatsu to meld their faces into exact replicas of Queen Oito, Bill, and Kurapika. "There, done."

Cautiously, Kurapika walked up to the bodies, amazed at the eerie accuracy of them. "You forgot one."

"I did?" Hisoka asked innocently. 

The blond swallowed thickly. "The prince has seen Kuroro on multiple occasions, so he may be looking for him as well." 

"Ooh, on a first-name basis are we?" the magician wiggled his eyebrows, nodding at the trail of purple bruises that traveled up Kurapika's neck. Still, he listened to the other's concerns, creating another scarily-perfect clone. Kurapika felt something inside of him stir at the perfect replica of Kuroro's face, so silent and still, and he averted his eyes. 

He sighed wearily. "Yes." Kurapika didn't have the energy to even begin to unpack the mess of emotions that welled up at the man's name. To his relief, Hisoka didn't push the subject, simply taking all four bodies and dragging them carelessly behind him. Turning, the clown tossed a key towards Kurapika with his free hand. 

"I'll go dump these bodies off onto our lovely little prince. You can rest in my cabin," he offered. Kurapika hesitated for a moment, and Hisoka playfully raised a brow. "It's not like you have anywhere else to go." 

Considering it for a moment, Kurapika dipped his head. It was true. Hisoka smiled brightly, before running a nen-coated hand over his face. Once he was done affixing the features of one of the more nondescript guards, he gave the blond a cheery salute. 

"Well then, I'll be off! Try not to bleed out on my carpets—they're disgusting enough as is!"

Then Hisoka skipped off, leaving Kurapika to practically drag himself as quietly as possible down to the worker's cabins. 

_I just hope they're safe._

* * *

To say that Hisoka's cabin was disgusting would have been a grievous understatement. The room, if it could be called that, was cramped and dark, with two simple, wire-framed beds pressed up against one wall. The air was damp and smelled of seawater, and there was a chill that not even multiple layers of blankets could keep out. Still, Kurapika could not complain. Despite the dangerous and unstable nature of his roommate, he felt the most safe that he had ever been since boarding the Black Whale. 

"So what are you going to do now?" Hisoka asked amiably, as if he wasn't currently washing blood and gore off of his hands. Apparently, all the clown'd had to do was drop the bodies at the prince's a feet, and then he had been dismissed.  _"Quite a distasteful man, if I do say so myself,"_ Hisoka had remarked with a disdainful sniff.  _"He really takes the term 'necrophilia' to all new heights."_

Kurapika had shivered at the other's words. 

The blond was tempted not to answer, but he figured that he owed it to the man for his services.

"I'm going to do what I planned to do when I first came onto this damned ship," Kurapika replied, shucking off his tattered coat.

"Oh?"

Feeling an insane little smile flit across his lips, Kurapika tilted his head to the side, shadows throwing eerie patterns across his face. "The Fourth Prince has something that I want."

Hisoka laughed, the sound rolling chillingly from his lips, before tossing a roll of bandages towards him. "Patch yourself up, then. Don't want my favorite little homicidal maniac bleeding out before he completes his revenge scheme." Kurapika was torn on whether or not he should be offended, but he felt his lips twitch upwards nonetheless. 

The other's unhinged demeanor was almost comforting. He could predict Hisoka's unpredictability, at least. "Thank you." Ripping off a strip with his teeth, he set to work binding his injuries. He tensed slightly when Hisoka sank down on the bed next to him. 

"Of course," the man chirped, before his tone darkened, "but don't take my hospitality as something without a price." Kurapika didn't even blink at the threatening promise lining the magician's words. 

"What do you want in return, then?" Hisoka grinned. 

"Nothing yet!" he sang, before springing off of the mattress. The springs seemed to groan in response. "Now, you should get some sleep if you want even a sliver of your nen back by next month." Kurapika gave him a wary look, the severity of the other's mood swings not at all reassuring of the man's state of mind. 

Hisoka snickered, as if reading his thoughts. "Don't worry. I won't try anything while you're out. At least, not yet." 

Although most of him still squirmed at the thought of leaving himself so vulnerable in front of the other, Kurapika knew that he was right. He needed to rest. So he let his eyes fall shut, his exhaustion tugging him into a dreamless void. 

* * *

 When he woke next, Hisoka was gone, a note pinned to the bedside table announcing that he had some sort of business to attend to. Kurapika had an inkling that it had something to do with that Spider girl, and he couldn't help the slight feeling of nausea that arose. Brushing it aside, he made to stand up. A dull pain radiated from his side, and he gritted his teeth. 

The adrenaline from the previous day had worn off, letting him feel the brunt of his injuries. Usually, he would have healed his wounds before this happened, but now he would just have to bear with it. The advanced healing abilities that ran with his bloodline would only help but so far. Kurapika sighed before lying back down. Moving around was probably not an option at the moment. 

Despite the dull tiredness that ached within his bones, his mind refused to settle. It drifted between his plans and his worries, filled to the brim with anxieties that threatened to break him. He had to trust that his charges had made it out to the safe house successfully. He had to trust that Tserriednich had been convinced by the body doubles, and hadn't bothered to send a thorough crew back to investigate the scene. He had to trust that Bill and Kuroro were continuing to keep the queen and Prince Woble safe...

_Kuroro._

His thoughts took a whole other direction. Kurapika couldn't get the look of sheer desperation that he had glimpsed on the other's face, emotions so raw and exposed, out of his head. How human it had looked—how fragile. It terrified him. 

It was easier to simply view the Phantom Troupe leader as a monster. A murderer, a thief—it didn't matter what he thought of him as, as long the brand of enemy kept everything black and white. But lately, Kuroro had been crossing into they grey area, showing a kind of vulnerability that confused him to no end. He had felt his anger and hatred softening then, becoming something that left his chest uncomfortably tight. 

What was it? Sympathy? Compassion? Fondness? Kurapika scoffed at the idea. Love was not for people like them. They were too jaded, too damaged for something so childish. Had he not learned that the hard way? In Yorknew, those years ago?

No matter how human Kuroro acted, or how much Kurapika craved the other's warmth, it would not change anything. Kurapika would never escape his past until he had fixed his mistakes. 

How could he live with himself, enjoying the touch of his people's killer? 

Still, the memory of Kuroro's lips against his skin tormented him, and self-loathing gathered like bitter bile at the back of his throat. He had never had the time to fully process the growing tangle of emotions towards the other man before, too busy trying not to get himself or his charges killed, but now, stuck in bed with nothing but his own thoughts to entertain himself, he had no other option but to let the guilt and regret slowly wash over him. 

He hated the fact that he had gotten accustomed to the other's presence. Hated the hollowness that he felt without him. Hated that he had grown soft again, and towards someone he had sworn as an enemy. Most of all, he hated that he was so willing to surrender to the emotions he had for the man that had taken his life away from him seven years ago.  

_Those emotions of yours will be your demise,_ the village elders had always told him.

_Then so be it,_ Kurapika thought to himself. And so he let the floodgates open, and he let all of his anger, his sorrow, his guilt, his fear— _everything,_ crash over him in waves until he was raw. Raw and broken and  _new._

He would hold on to his rage and sadness, just for a little longer. Just one more time, he would let his loss sharpen his resolve. 

And then he would let it go.

Perhaps, if he managed to survive this, there would be time to forgive. Time to heal. 

Kurapika felt something akin to a sigh run through his body, and low hum buzzed at the back of his mind. Holding up a hand curiously, he flexed his fingers, now wrapped in thin, glowing chains. He smiled.

His nen was back. 

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

Hisoka felt a snarp grin curl up his face as he sidled up beside the Spider head, casually leaning against the railing. The dark-haired man's expression deepened at his presence, glaring into the distance. 

"Give me one reason that I shouldn't kill you right where you stand." The clown practically swooned at the blood lust dripping from the other's tone. 

"Oh,  _boss,_ you know how to flatter a man," he purred, smirk widening as Kuroro's muscles tensed, as if about to spring. "But I'm not here to talk about  _me._ " 

In a flash, Hisoka found himself pinned against the wall by the shorter man, an arm pressing threateningly into his throat. "Don't think that I've gotten soft, Hisoka," he said icily. "Now get out of my sight before I reconsider my decision  _not_ to cause a scene."

Letting a laugh escape his lips, Hisoka held his arms up placatingly. "Wouldn't want to go against your pretty little blond's wishes and bring harm to your charges, now would you?" he taunted, watching in delight as the man's expression flickered with a myriad of emotions.  _Oh, well this is a whole lost messier than I thought. Just what have those two been up to?_

Kuroro's arm pressed harder, whole frame shaking with barely restrained rage, and Hisoka inwardly whistled. The man really  _did_ lose all composure when it came to the Kurta. Maybe he should've just left Kurapika to die, after all, just to see what effect it had on the Phantom Troupe leader when it fully sunk in that he was truly and absolutely dead as a door nail. 

But then that meant that he would have lost one of his favorite toys. Yes, he had made the right decision in helping him. 

"Sorry," Hisoka said cheekily, despite the fact that his windpipe was steadily being crushed, "didn't mean to bring up anything _sensitive_."

"What. Do. You. Want?" Kuroro ground out. 

"He called me, before all this," he revealed, relishing the look of surprise and then grief that colored the other's eyes. "Told me his plans," he continued, pausing for dramatic effect. "He was planning on dying from the very beginning, you know." 

Kuroro jerked away from him, as if burned. 

"Didn't show a lick of regret, not until the very day before." The other man backed away, all of his anger fading into something else entirely—it was fascinating to watch. If he had known that this was all it took to break him, well... "Did something happen between you two, hm?" He was just spitting out fabrications, now, but Hisoka knew that there was some truth to it. "Something that made him suddenly so, so scared of dying?"

The other man was breathing heavily now, but he still managed to stare the magician down. "Is this the only reason you decided to show up?"  _To gloat over my loss?_

Hisoka smiled. He had him now. "Yes and no." Kuroro's fist clenched. "I can help you with your little prince problem—"

The Spider head stilled. 

"—but for a price."

Kuroro stiffened, aura turning dark once again. " _Go to hell_."

Hisoka just laughed, tossing him a slip of paper. "Do expect a call in the near future." And with that, he left. 

Oh, it was really was so fun playing with the both of them. 

* * *

"You ready to go?"

Kurapika turned away from the mirror, making the last adjustment to his tie. "Please, I was ready for this since day one," he muttered. Hisoka's grin widened.

"I like the suit," the clown told him, walking forward to run an appreciative hand down the fabric. "All black. Very sexy."

Batting away the hand, Kurapika shot the other man an admonishing look. "And I was just starting to like this one..." The suit  _was_ nice. The material was light and not as restricting as his usual wool attire, and the two-piece suit was hued in a monochrome black that contrasted rather nicely with the blond's light complexion. He sighed. 

At least he'd be able to go out in style.

Straightening out his cuffs one last time, he nodded at the other man. "Thanks again for the help."

Hisoka grinned, all teeth. "The pleasure was all mine."

Kurapika gave a curt nod to the magician as a final thanks before he left, the dim lighting of the hallway easily obscuring his grim expression. He found that it no longer mattered so little to him whether or not he survived this ordeal. He had a family to put to rest, friends to return to, and enemies to forgive. He had a life ahead of him, one where he could finally be at peace. 

Yes, he would banish his guilt and hate with the retribution of one man. 

A certain prince had  _his_ eyes, and he would have hell to pay for such a crime. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so it just occurred to me that this chapter was pretty boring. But I hope you still liked it! If not, then the next chapter will be a LOT more interesting. I'm thinking only about three more chapters, so hopefully I'll finish this by the end of this year :\
> 
> Notes:  
> 1\. Assume that about a week as passed from Hisoka's encounter with Kuroro and the final segment of the chapter.  
> 2\. Kurapika has like WAY too many guilt complexes... but hey, let's at least try to be a bit realistic about having feelings for your family's murderer.  
> 3\. Kurapika's introspection bit is SUPER disjointed and gross, but that's because I wrote while hyped up on four cups of coffee and two hours of sleep.  
> 4\. Meanwhile, Kuroro is still trying to keep it together. He'll just have to stew for a little longer...
> 
> As always, thank you so much for your wonderful support! Please let me know what you thought of this chapter!
> 
> lots of love,   
> unreadable0 :)

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Feedback, maybe?
> 
> 2) About the little blip with Kurapika's promise that he mentioned to Kuroro: Gon had him promise that he wouldn't pursue any spiders anymore at the end of the Yorknew City arc
> 
> 3) This story will be Kuroro/Kurapika endgame, by the way
> 
> 4) No, Tserriednich is not in love/infatuated/anything (at least, not yet) with Kurapika, he is simply interested and curious about his powers and intelligence like the creepy person he is. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and please input any feedback! 
> 
>  
> 
> follow me on tumblr @unreadable0


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